Little Freddy
by DaXSentimentalXGoth
Summary: Fred returns to Nowhere and Courage finds his diaries. Reading them, he discovers that, once upon a time, Fred was a boy who was very similar to him: having worries and tests of strength. Someone who conquered their fears and remained fearless to this day. However, the barber may be fearless..but that does not excuse him for the other things he's done..
1. Prolouge

**Disclaimer: I do not own Courage the Cowardly Dog or any of it's characters.**

_Prolouge_

_"Let's forget everything, Freddy," Mrs. Richardson whispered pulling her son closer to her. "Forget everything that has happened to you, forget who you are now and what others think of you..and tell me what do you want to be more than anything in this world?"_

_Seven year old Fred frowned. _

_He suddenly realized that tears were streaming down his face. Embarassed he tried to wipe them away. but his mother saw and held him closer._

_"What's wrong?" she gently asked him._

_"I hate being s-so scared all the t-time!" he burst out "I don't want to be scared! I want to be brave! Like you, and Chad and S-Stewart! Everyone calls me a baby and they're always picking on me..I want to fight back b-but I c-can't!" _

_He couldn't speak anymore and she gently rocked her son as he wailed, unable to contain his misery anymore._

_"I want to be brave, but I can't!" he finally blubbered into her shoulder "I'm not brave-I'll never be brave..never..never.."_

_His mother listened to his agonized cries, sadness filling her heart, as well as anger. Anger for the man who hurt her precious Freddy. And beneath that anger was anger for herself for allowing that to happen. There was no lying, if she never married him, none of this would happen._

_"Freddy," she muttered, a sudden passionate thought ripped through her being "Freddy, you are not weak."_

_"Yes I am-"_

_"No! Fredrick, look at me!"_

_He could never disobey her when she called him by his full name. He lifted his head, setting his red eyes on hers. _

_"You are strong Freddy, all my boys are very strong, even Chad and Stewart had been scared and weak, but it's okay, Freddy, it's okay."_

_"I know I made a bad decision. I know I've done a terrible thing, and I will pay for my mistake, you can tell the whole world that I've done great wrong to you, I will not deny it, you have every right to hate and be angry with me, but I will not tolerate you giving into what those bullies at school say... you are not weak.."_

_"But I can't do anything right,"_

_"Those kids at school and in our neighborhood are wrong, your teachers are wrong by telling you are a failure..do you understand me Fredrick? They're wrong! All wrong!"_

_Fred sniffled. He wanted to believe his mother, but he couldn't. He felt that the bullies in the schoolyard had an accurate opinion, whether he wanted to believe it or felt just about as wretched and pathetic as a human being could perceive themselves._

_"Just because you feel weak now doesn't mean you'll stay this way forever."_

_He looked up at her, his eyes hurting from crying "W-what do you mean?"_

_"when I was a little girl, around your age, maybe even older, I was scared of a lot of things..I was very timid, very shy and a lot of people picked on me because I was scared, or that I wasn't pretty, and for a while, I believed them..then my mother told me that I had something special, something that no one else had, she said I was smart and talented and that I was top of the class and that was worth much more than prettiness or popularity could ever be..and with that I began to appreciate myself..I still get scared or angry, but I simply do what my mother taught me and I'm not as scared as I was before."_

_"But you weren't afraid when He was here," he pointed out, recalling with a shiver the night He went crazy and his calm mother held him all through that ordeal._

_"oh, but I was Freddy, I was very scared that day."_

_"But you didn't seem scared," if anything she looked angry, ferocious, anything but scared._

_"But I was inside, I was afraid he'd hurt you very badly.."_

_"Were Chad and Sterwart afraid?"_

_"I belive they were."_

_"Then how come you guys didn't show it?" Fred asked_

_"Because we needed to keep our heads or else we'd never get out of that situation."_

_"Then how come I'm the only one who ever cries?"_

_"I cry when I'm scared,"_

_"But not that night,"_

_"Because I knew I had to protect you if it came to that and crying wouldn't do one bit of good,"_

_Fred sighed "I can never be brave like that," he murmured aloud._

_"Of course you can Fred," his mother objected "With a bit of practice everyday you can become very brave."_

_"Maybe." Fred sighed, not really believing it._

_His mother frowned and looked over at the beside clock. It was nearly ten o'clock._

_"I think it's time to go to bed," she said "You need to get up for school tomorrow,"_

_"I hate school," Fred sighed slipping off the bed so his mother could pull down the comforter._

_"So did I Fred, but I had to go and you need to go."_

_"I'm going to the bathroom," he replied shortly and trudged from the room._

_Mrs. Richardson gazed after her son who long departed from the bedroom. Her elder sons were dealing with the after shock of the divorce. They had one another and friends to keep them optimistic and happy. Fred was having the worst time trying to cope with it, since he had been harmed by her ex; physically harmed. And now it was happening all over again with Derek and several other kids. _

_The once happy light-hearted child had now grown somber, dispensing with childish games and mannerisms. He started as many fights as well as lost them. He refused to talk with her for the longest time, or to his brothers or to any of the teachers or doctors. It was only now she was able to coax him out of his new shell._

_He returned a few moments later. His eyes were notably red but a veil had now glazed over them - the same veil she had grown accustomed seeing in her boy's eyes since the incident. Again, she inwardly protested... this is not what it's supposed to be like._

_"Well, goodnight." he said to her, sliding under the comforters and turning away from her._

_"Do you want me to play your music box?"_

_"Sure." he replied noncomittedly._

_She reached for the music box that sat next to his clock. Turning the key so that it would play as long as possible, she listened to the sweet little melody that played from within the mahogany box._

_Setting it down, she turned to her son and began to lovingly pat his hair._

_She leant down and kissed him, whispering into his ear:_

_"You will be brave someday, Fred..you will grow up to be one of the bravest men the world has ever known..While the rest of us shakes in our boots, you will be as cool as a cucumber..and people who aren't as brave will look to you for strength and you'll help them find it within themselves so that they will become strong too..your heart will be pure and your mind incorruptable..you'll see through every trick and lie..you're destined for many things, Fred, grand things.."_

_24 years later - Home for Freaky Barbers_

"I never hurt her in any way, Mom," Fred whispered into her ear, almost pleading with her to believe him, "All those rumors about me .. doing terrible things to her are all wrong! I've never _touched _her in _any _way, Mother, I swear it."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're the only one who will believe me!"

"But why should I? You can be easily lying to me."

"I _never _lie to you."

She wanted to believe him, she really did. She always believed he told the truth, being the honest child he was for as long as she knew him. But he was a grown man now and was no longer obligated to tell her anything. She looked him hard in the eye and he gazed back, pleading, his gaze unwavering. Thus the look of an honest person or the mask of an extraordinary actor.

"I suppose I have no choice but to believe you then." she sighed, adverting her gaze. _Innocent until proven guilty. _And yet, there was no way of ever finding out whether he was truthful or not. No witnesses. Only he and Barbara alone together..and his word as the only answer.

"I'm really sorry, Mother."

"Oh! Don't apologize to me! It's your girlfriend that you should be saying sorry to!"

"I already did..she won't talk to me.."

"I can see why, terrible thing being done to her like that! Anyone whose been drugged and had her hair cut off wouldn't be keen on forgiving anything anytime soon! I feel very sorry for the poor girl.."

"I couldn't help it," Fred murmured dejectedly "I'm so ashamed at what I did, and I really want to make it up to her someway."

"Well she may not want to, Freddy, most girls who go through something like that aren't bound to forgive so easily..put herself in her place, she's trusted you and grown to love you and you do.._this_, straight out of the blue..like when a girl will get molested by a boyfriend or raped..whether you did something like that or not, it's the same thing - you hurt her, Fred and you best be ready for the fact that she never wants to see you again."

"I don't want you to hate me too."

"I don't hate you Fred, I'm angry at you..angry and appalled by this..but I don't hate you."

"You didn't write or call for a year."

"I was sick."

"What about before? Why didn't you say anything when I was in jail or in the asylum or anything?"

"Well, I was merely trying to assimilate what you had done, let alone talk to you or anyone. What was I suppose to say Fred? What did you want me to say to you? That what you did was wrong? How shocked and disappointed I was in you? Or how could you do such a thing to Barbara? What good would any of that do? I hardly believed any of it myself..I didn't want to believe that you did it, and for a long time I was torn between pretending it was someone else and wondering..Why, Fred? Why? Why _you _of all people in this world? What _possessed _you to do such a..bizzare thing? But then maybe it turns out..I don't know you, maybe I never knew you Fred..I don't know what goes on inside your head.

"By the time I was ready to accept everything, I had that scary close call and I couldn't write to you, it's only now I can actually write coherently, before I could barely hold a pencil..you got Muriel's letter, didn't you?"

"Why didn't anyone tell me how bad you were doing? Everyone had me believing you were fine, everyone was kindly informed but me that you were dying that day."

"I didn't want you to worry."

"Chad and Stewart knew."

"Only because they were there with me..and you weren't."

"I still like to be informed about such things."

"What good would it do to know that I was possibly dying?"

He said nothing.

"One thing I've learned that night is that life..is too short..I can go at anytime - today, tomorrow, a month, a year from now - and I rather not waste what precious time I have with apologies and feeling sorry for ourselves..neither are necessary.

"I will always forgive you for whatever you do, no matter how terrible or reprehensible it is, no matter how much it saddens or angers me, I will always forgive you Fred..you needn't worry about that."

"Now, let's forget about that Fred," she whispered "Let's forget you ever did anything and let's enjoy our visit together, no more talk about what we did or should've or should've not done..what's done is done, so there's little use in worrying about it..okay?"

She placed her hand over his and gently clasped it.

"Look around us, look at the sky, the trees, the ducks over there - look - the grass and the flowers..we're surrounded by so much beauty, beauty millions of people take for granted everyday..never take anything good for granted, Fred, whether it be beauty or those you love.."

One may look at this place and think they've seen better, but when one was accustomed to living in the dry country of Nowhere county, this was heaven on Earth. Mrs. Richardson had not seen much green and color in nature in a long long time.

"This is a good place," she commented casually as if this were any other visit "These are good people, they'll help you."

He nodded but made no comment.

"What were you planning on doing once you got cured?"

"..I'm not sure, I suppose try and get my license back,"

"You mean go back to being a barber?"

"The doctor said with the right therapy I could go back to my job,"

"You cannot put too much faith in those experimental treatments, I've read about many that went wrong or did more harm than good - Fred? Fredrick, listen to me," he promptly met her gaze, that tactic had always worked no matter what, though, she never quite understood it, "There must be something else you would want to do with your life other than barbering? You should not have to live your life feeding that one desire, it is not your whole life, there are other pleasures far more rewarding and less..harmful than that..

"You ought to find a nice girl, I know that there may not be other girls like Barbara but it's better than living out your days alone or -" she lowered her voice _"- playing around."_

She of course referred Chad, who never settled on one girl for more than a couple of months, and each relationship held passion, drama and always a volcanic argument and a tearful goodbye from many of his ex-girlfriends. As much as she disapproved, she rarely interfered. But Fred needed someone who could take care of him and look after him, someone who could support him. As far as his condition, if it really was the hair, then she should have no worries of what will become of the girl. Or should she?

"You know what you ought to do? You ought to become a writer! that's what you should do, Fred! You should write books!"

"Oh, I don't know about that, I've got no talent for writing,"

"But you think of the most imaginative things! All those stories when you were a wee one! They were worthy of publishing, and I'm not just saying that!"

"Ideas are one thing, but I can't write stories or characters,"

"You could be a children's author! I can give you all your short stories and you could rewrite them, and illustrate them, you make the most darling pictures in the world, Fred, especially your paintings - " she was of course referring to the pictures he painted of his hamster and of Barbara, both of which she had placed in the closet of his old bedroom, "That's what you ought to do, you'd make lots of money doing that, and you needn't need to go anywhere!"

He shrugged "Maybe."

"I think it's a good idea," she sighed, finding that she was quite excited and looking forward to this idea. Closing her eyes she murmured "I can see it now, in your little house, writing out your soon-to-be famous best-selling series," she could imagine him sitting at a desk and typing away at his computer and drawing in between. She peeked at him and saw that he had closed his eyes as well. She knew what he was doing.

They played the same game together for years. When he was a boy it was adventure and fantasy worlds, later it was life goals.

Like everything in his childhood, she encouraged him to talk to her every way, whether it was dictating short stories or to play games like cloud gazing, just to have him open up.

_She had often encouraged him to play with her, to open up to her. He had become more open and smiled more, laughed more, and she kept it up. Because if she didn't, she feared he would sink back within that dark state of mind and never re-emerge._

_She had walked out onto the porch and saw Freddy lying on his back in the grass. He was gazing up at the sky, with his pet hamster sitting on his stomach. She came over and as she did he looked up at her and smiled. Smiling back just as warmly, she settled next to him. She saw that the hamster was sleeping. Fred's little fingers gently roved over the pink back almost rhythmically. He smiled up at her, "Hi." he greeted her pleasantly._

_"Hi," she returned with a laugh "What are you doing?"_

_"Looking at the clouds."_

_"Did you see anything up there?" she asked lying on her back._

_"I saw a few things,"_

_"Like what?"_

_"Oh I don't know..a bird or a dinosaur.."_

_"Really?"_

_"Yeah, but there not up there anymore, this was a while ago."_

_"Are you still looking for some more?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"Can I look with you?"_

_"Sure."_

_They spent the remainder of the afternoon in that spot, occasionally spotting an animal or some other image in the clouds, with long intervals of pleasant silence between. Fred never was much of a talker, but there was definitely a happier vibe in his silence, something that brought her new hope. _

_"Mom?"_

_"Yes?"_

_"I love you very much." was his unexpected reply._

_She gazed at him, unable to reply, his green eyes which were identical to her husbands, sparkling with the light of the sun._

_Suddenly he sat up straight "Chad's home!" he gleefully announced and with that he leaped to his feet, clutching his pet hamster to him and ran towards the porch. She sat up just in time to watch the back door bang shut. She listened to her youngest son's enthusiastic greetings as she took in what he told her. His "I love you very much" echoed in her ears. Tears blurred her vision._

She then realized that tears were falling down her face as she thought back to that day.

"Mom?" Fred's adult voice broke into her reverie.

She blinked up at him, feeling as though she awoke from a dream. Only instead of coming into focus, her world blurred even more, and not just by her tears. She felt as though she were falling asleep. She felt something like this before..she recognized its pull. She drew in a sharp breath, willing herself to stay awake. She could practically feel her time draining from her body. But instead of fear, only sadness befell her - sadness reserved for him.

She was saddened of where he ended up, when she needed him most, sad at what he had become - or always had been.

She pulled him close and quietly wept into her son's shoulder. Her heart ached as she felt his hands rub her back soothingly. She kissed him on the cheek, holding him close to her for a moment or two until she was able to whisper, "No matter what you've ever done, no matter who you were or what you thought, I need you to know that you were the greatest - most _wonderful _thing that has ever happened to me - you helped me like no other person had - like when you were born -"

_"Your father's death sent me spiralling into this dark abyss, I've never felt such despair I tried to be strong for your brothers, they were only little babies, and they too were saddened..but then you were born, and you - you never knew sadness, your smile was the one light in that dim place I was, your wonder and curiosity of the world around you made me forget about my sadness..you saved me that time Fred, your innocence and your happiness kept me alive and sure enough I was able to go on with my life, thanks to you.."_

"-and then, when I first found out I was sick -"

_"During that uncertain time, back when my future became dark and bleak, you stood by me and said "You'll get better, you're the strongest person I've ever known, just know you'll get better and it will happen, I promise you." You said those words steadily. I saw the fear in your eyes and yet, you were calm and composed. You talked about what we would do together in the future and not worrying or talking about the past and what wonderful memories I had. Whether you believed that I would push through or not, I believed it and with your optimism I fought it and lived.."_

"You saved me Fred..no one else gave me the courage and strength to push through my pain and sadness..no one but you..and I thank you, my dear, for everything.."

She found herself crying harder, and his embrace tightened.

They held one another for a long time. How long, neither could say. Time meant little meaning to either of them. In this moment, their intimacy produced a mutual, almost telepathic acknowledgement of just how this moment was precious. And thus they were able to stop time completely for a moment, or stretched what little time they had into a short eternity.

But sadly reality was not as kind. As they drew apart she caught sight of a worker approaching them "Mrs. Richardson?" he greeted her pleasantly, "Your cab is here."

"Walk with me back to the cab, Fred."

"I don't think I'm allowed."

"Oh of course you are," she turned to the worker "Excuse me, sir, but is it alright if my son escorts me to the car?"

"I think so, ma'am, but only if I go with you as well."

"That'd be fine!"

They walked in silence back to the cab. She squeezed her son's hand, noticing how thin it had become since the last time she held his hand, and wondered if this would be the last time she ever would.

She wanted him to come with her. To have him ride beside her in the cab ride to the hospital. She wanted him to hold her hand for as long as she was still clinging to life. She wanted him to be the last thing she saw.

Arriving at the parked cab, she turned to him and embraced him, "Goodbye, Fred." she murmured to him.

He didn't answer her. She wanted to leave him with an encouraging word, but everything she had said or could say seemed irrelevant. Chances are he may never leave here. He may never have a life again. She didn't want to lie to him anymore, give him anymore false hope. But she could not stand the thought of her son knowing despair. It came to everyone, for whatever reason, eventually in their lives. But she would not be the cause of her son's. Hope was the only way she could repay him.

Waking from her reverie, she wondered how long they have stood there. Fred had not let go of her. She patted him gently and gave him a gentle kiss. But he still did not release her.

"Let me go, Fred." she whispered. She half hoped he wouldn't though, and that they could stay here until the doctors had to drag him off and her away in the cab. But he did let go, though he still held her hand.

She saw how miserable her son looked and lightly chucked his chin, "Chin up, remember?" she smiled warmly, "We'll see each other again."

"Alright."

"Promise me you'll work hard to get out of here," her son did not belong here, "You need to get your life back on track, that's all that's important now, okay?"

"Yes, mom."

"Okay," she stood on tiptoe and gently kissed him again "I love you, Fred."

"I love you too, Mom."

One more hug, one more kiss, one last gaze into her son's beautiful eyes, then she got into the cab.

Alone in the cab, she thought of her sons.

Chad, Stewart and Fred.

The best sons she could ever hope for.

She closed her eyes and pictured them being there with her in the cramped little cab. Chad on one side, Stewart on the other, and Little Freddy sitting in her lap. She thought back to everything she had shared with them, everything she gave to them - not of the bad times, she could not, would not dwell on those. She held them all, truly held them, her love for them filling her soul so that she sworn it ached, and broke.

Now she allowed the memories to fill her mind, each one far more beautiful than the other. The most cherished she remembered were of the garden, and those long summers that followed that terrible divorce - such times she was proud to call the happiest of her life.

The thick raspberry grove where her sons would play hide and seek, where she saw Fred crawl about pretending to be a dog or bear; or they would sit and pick the berries eating them as their snack. She remembered the sunshine and the dandelions, Little Freddy blowing the fluffy seeds and watch them dance about in the air around him. Her little boys picking the flowers and giving them to her, walking up with a bouquet of lilacs and daffodils while she was either cooking or folding the laundry. Those unexpected little surprises from her sons that gave her such joy.

Cloud gazing with her little Fred. Dreaming of castles in the sky, and the worlds of rainbows and wonder that existed in the clouds. They talked of making a flying machine and going there someday to live there together happily without care, or having to go to school or do chores (Fred's input, of course she thought fondly) He would gaze up at the same spot he was sure that world lay, invisible to all but them. Several years would go by and she sat with him on the bench in the garden and talked about what he wanted to do with his life, and her's, when she got better. Then she waved at him at his graduation, and before she knew it, they walked together into his new apartment. Not long after that, did he give her the best haircut she ever could hope for..then he was back in her living room, only this time, with Barbara seated at his side. She recalled that day where Fred was listening to his brother, and all the while he held his girlfriend's dainty little hand in his..and she was so happy. Fred never had a girl of his own..he had caught her watching him from the hall, and he grinned up at her..and his smile was unlike anything she had ever seen on his face..and how she had waited for that day to come to see that smile..

_"Fred, she's a darling!"_

_"She is, isn't she?"_

_"She's just perfect for you, I can see that already, I know she is the one for you, Fred.."_

..the rest that happened in between then and today... was but a nightmare that her over imaginative and ever worrying mind conjured up, it never really happened - Fred had everything a man could ever want: a loving, supportive family, true friends, a career, a beautiful girlfriend..and as far as she was concerned in this moment, he still had them all..

_"Are you happy, Fred?"_

_"Yes..I don't think I've been happier before in my entire life."_

She lived to see Fred happy, truly happy.

And she was able to see him one last time.

Her wish was granted. She was now complete.

No regrets, none for herself nor for him.

There was nothing to regret.

And with that, she exhaled her final breath.

And allowed death to carry her away.


	2. Part One

**Disclaimer: I do not own Courage the cowardly Dog or any of its characters. The only characters that I own are the stepfather and his daughter Lindsey.**

Part One

Chapter One: The Freaky Barber Returns

_5 years later - Middle of Nowhere_

Courage sat huddled beneath the kitchen table. He watched the legs of his two elderly owners walk past him many times as they went about locking up the house. apparently they were all going to town on some sort of excursion that involved Muriel and Eustace going to the movies and .._Him _going dancing, or whatever they planned, with his step sister, Lindsey..or rather _former_ step sister.

Muriel's nephew had come to visit again .. only this time he would be staying only until he found a place of his own. Which, could be a few weeks or a few months..or perhaps a year. Courage almost fainted when he heard the news, still shell-shocked from his last visit. And for several weeks, Courage spent his days hiding and dodging the presence of the nefarious man. He hardly can be with Muriel anymore, as she spent half the time talking and visiting with _him._

That is until Lindsey came along. Because of her, he was able to snatch a few moments here and there with his owner, because the woman often took Fred somewhere else to do who-knows-what.

He now slept out in the barn. But even though he was as far as he could be from Fred, he was still afraid of what the barber might do. He feared that any moment he would swoop upon him if he let his guard down. He jumped at the slightest noises and had developed a unconcious habit of looking about him, expecting the grinning man to be stalking him.

But today was different, as they were all going to town. Now he would be the only one left. Courage never looked forward to being alone before in his life. He always hated being alone and always went with Muriel or Eustace into town. But now that he knew Fred was going he was ecstatic to be staying home.

"Ooh, I'm so excited, Eustace," he heard Muriel sigh to her husband "I cannot remember the last time we went out on a date."

Eustace grumbled under his breath, apparently not looking forward to the date, but Muriel hummed cheerfully as she bustled about, not paying any heed to her husband's grumpiness.

"Back door' s locked, so's the basement," she told her husband, "Where's Courage?"

After making sure Fred wasn't in the vicinity, he crawled out from beneath the table. He whined to get her attention.

"Oh, there you are!" she said with a smile and picked him up "We're going to town for a while, and somebody needs to stay and guard the house."

Normaly, Muriel would've worked Courage coming with them even if the truck was bursting with people. But thankfully, she understood his aversion to her nephew.

"Thanks Muriel." he said to her, even though he knew she didn't understand him.

She turned and headed towards the living room, and he promptly jumped down from her arms and returned to where he had originally been huddled.

"So, are we ready? Is everyone ready to go?" he heard Muriel call from the living room.

"I believe Lindsey is still upstairs." the barber's eerie voice emanated from the next room.

"She's still gettin' dressed? It's been like an hour!" Eustace rasped impatiently.

"Lindsey! are you ready?" Muriel called, from the bottom of the stairs. Courage heard the woman call down from somewhere above "Yeah! I'll be right down!" A moment later a door closed followed by the sound of heels clinking down the stairs.

There was a murmur where everyone commented on the outfit Lindsey wore, and after a short pause, Courage assumed they were all bustling out the door one by one.

Not until all had left and Muriel had called out "Bye, Courage! See you in a couple of hours!" the door securely shut and locked , did Courage emerge from his hiding place. He waited for the truck to rev up before he hurried to the living room to peek out the window. He watched the truck drive away. When it had disappeared from view, he hurried upstairs.

He had removed all the scissors from the house and buried them in the backyard, along with the razors that either Eustace or Muriel used occasionally. But he suspected that Fred carried his own. Now that everyone was gone, he had a chance to snatch them.

Fred slept in Muriel's and Eustaces's room, now that Lindsey was given the guest bedroom. The elderly couple had chosen to use the small spare bedroom they had added down in the basement. The door to Muriel's and Eustaces's room wasn't locked and Courage slipped inside.

The room smelled of _him. _His presence lingered in the bedroom where he should be sleeping and Courage growled. He was rarely possessive of anything, as he enjoyed sharing things with others, however, this was the only exception. The man had invaded his home and now the thought of him taking possession (even if only temporarily) of the bedroom, enraged the normally mild-mannered dog.

What angered him most was that Muriel completely disregarded him after that visit. He remembered standing beside her, shivering, naked having been shorn for the first time in his life, and she waved after her nephew and smiling commented on how lovely their 'visit' was. Now that he could forgive, if she were sympathetic towards him. But after they had gone inside, she shook her head and said "Poor, poor Fred.."

Poor Fred? She was calling _him _poor? What about him, her pet dog? The freak cornered him, gagged him and nearly strangled him while he shave all his fur off, and she was feeling sorry for _him?_

He rarely got angry at Muriel, in fact he had never ever gotten angry at his owner before. Courage was not blind to the fact that Muriel was a bit on the oblivious side, like when she was in danger or when some villain tried to woo or seduce her. And mainly she always thought there was some good in them. That being apart of her obliviousness, he could understand, that being the type of person she was. Those times he got annoyed and frustrated, but not angry. But he had been then.

He shook these thoughts aside. He needed to find the razor or whatever he brought, then once he knew he was in no danger, he could relax..sort of. He would still have to put up with him being here but that was hardly a problem once you removed the possibility of getting shaved again.

The first place he checked he found what he was looking for - the dreaded black bag he carried the last time he came to visit. He pulled it out but was dismayed to find that the clasp on the front was locked. Heart sinking, he wondered where the key was. He looked on the bedside table and in the drawers. Finding nothing he hurried to the closet and opened it. There hung Fred's clothes. He looked in all the pockets, and even in the suitcase which was pushed in the far back. Nothing. He then searched Muriel's and Eustace's clothes wondering if he might have slipped the key in any of the drawers. This search also proved to be fruitless.

Panic seized him and he went about the room, taking a flashlight and looking in all the wide cracks in the floorboards, around the windows, even taking off all the pillows and looking between the mattress and the bed. All the while Courage suspected that it was more likely that Fred carried the key with him. If that was the case, he had no way of obtaining it. He let out a howl of despair.

He glanced at the clock. The movie should be starting at any moment. He still had enough time to figure something out. Perhaps he didn't need the key, he could open the black bag other ways - the only problem was that to do so would be to demolish the bag and Fred would certainly notice..but maybe he ought to risk it. He was tired of tiptoeing about. He quickly straightened up the room so that it looked as though no one had snooped about. He tried to reach beneath the flap, but it was fastened tightly. His mind roved over what he could use to open it - scissors would work - which meant he would have to go out and dig them up. He cringed at the prospect of having to go outside alone. What else could he use to cut open the bag? He could use Eustace's wire cutters or shears, they were probably somewhere in the basement -

-that's when he thought - the laundry! Fred had changed his clothes to go into town. Was it possible that the key was in his pant's pocket?

He shrugged, it was worth a shot.

He scampered out of the room and hurried to the basement. Upon reaching it, he snapped the light on and practically flew down the stairs. Almost colliding with the washer, he jumped up and opened it and he opened it, immediately spotting Fred's white shirt and green pants. He eagerly pulled out the wet garments and stuck a paw in each pocket, only to find nothing. Heart sinking, he shook out the pants, turning them inside out; he proceeded to do the same with his shirt and even his socks. He gave a groan of defeat and in a fury started to dig through all the clothes, shaking them out and digging through everything that had a pocket. Nothing. Whimpering, he checked the washer and spotting one of Lindsey's skirts entwined about Muriel's brassiere and straining for them, managed to hook a claw around the straps of the under clothing.

Pulling them apart, he started as a glint of silver fell and clattered on the bottom of the washer. The key!

He gave a whoop of joy, losing his balance and falling into the washer himself. He ignored the pain and snatched at the key "YES!" he yelped victoriously, pumping his fists into the air.

Not bothering to put the clothes back in the washer, he raced up stairs, the key clutched in his paw.

Reaching the bedroom, he sailed in and hurriedly skid the key in the lock. His heartbeat pounded so loudly, it deafened him, and opening the lid he expected to meet with the dreaded red razor..

..only to find several small notebooks. One of them was smaller than the rest and had a bright blue hardcover. He blinked, taken aback momentarily. He pushed them aside to find a stack of letters. He recognized Muriel's handwriting, the address reading:

_Fred Richardson_

_Home for Freaky Barbers_

_Nowhere, Kansas_

He tugged on the twine that held the letters together, surprised at how heavy the stack was - evidentially, he and Muriel had been corresponding for a long time - and set it aside the notebooks. No razor. This was the same box he carried before, he'd recognize it anywhere. And yet this time, he did not bring the razor. He heaved a great sigh of relief, leaning against the bed. Apparently he worried for nothing.

He picked up the little blue notebook, regarding the cover, which was designed to look like leather, how it shimmered in the light. He opened it, the very first page was blank save for _Fredrick Richardson _in this elegant scroll which he assumed was his handwriting. He flipped to the next page and immediately saw it was a diary.

Curiosity stirred deep in his gut as he gazed over the little pile of notebooks. Picking one up he opened it to a random page and found this was also another journal.

His heart pounded. Should he dare read them? What secrets possibly lurked the pages of the writings of the freaky barber? Would any of them answer the questions that had been plaguing his mind since that fateful visit?

He flipped to the very first page of the one he was holding and read:

_July 25 1999_

_"It was a day I'd not forget, the day I first met my pet, oh what a lovely gift to get! I never felt so_ naughty.."


	3. Chester

**Disclaimer: I do not own Courage the Cowardly Dog or any of it's characters.**

Chapter Two: Chester

My mother had waited until all the guests left to give me my present. She didn't want me to open it in front of everybody and she wouldn't explain why. Later I understood and was grateful for it.

My eighth birthday had been a small affair, the guests consisting of my grandparents, Aunt Muriel and Uncle Eustace, and a handful of cousins that had come along with my grandparents, and my brother's friends. I had no friends of my own at the time - or rather, no people friends. The boys and Kessie, my rather tomboyish girl cousin, had run off to play in the cornfields, so I stayed behind and visited with my elderly relatives.

All the while, I kept watching the time, waiting for the guests to leave so that i may receive the greatest gift of all. After all, what could it possibly be that my mother would want no other people to be about? My mind blazed with anticipation, and I found it hard to concentrate on whatever story my grandmother had told me.

Gradually they all left, starting with my grandparents and my cousins, then Duncan and Jack, my brother's closest friends.

And as soon as Aunt Muriel and Eustace had driven away, she turned to me and took my hand. Are you ready for your birthday present?"

I couldn't take the suspense any longer. I had begun jumping around, hollering about how I had waited so long and if I waited any longer I was going to explode. She led me to her bedroom, telling me to quiet down, and I tried but waiting for hours on end drove me to wits end at this point. We took a moment and I tried my best to compose myself before we entered.

There on the bed sat a cage.

My breath had caught in my throat, knowing it could only mean one thing.

I slowly made my way over, my heart beat fast and even faster as I laid my eyes on the furry creature within.

A little pink hamster with enormous blue eyes sat huddled in the farthest corner of the cage. His hide held the most abundant lustrous fur I've ever seen on any animal in all my life.

"Isn't he a darling?" my mother had asked me, I could hardly answer her. I managed to gasp "Yes." I was riveted to the spot, held in place by the wonder that sat within the cage.

"The store owner told me his name is Chester, is that alright, Freddy?"

Chester. "Chester..?" What a lovely name. What a perfect name, I had thought.

The world had melted away leaving only the two of us, alone. I longed to touch that fur, to stroke it. I had raised my fingers to the cage and he drew even further away. I quickly withdrew my hand. I wanted him know that I would never hurt him. I would rather have died than hurt him.

"- and you'll have to change his food and water everyday and clean his cage maybe once a week or so -" my mother spoke to me from far away. I blinked, returning to reality and, with difficulty, nodded my head.

She picked up the cage and carried to my room, I kept pace with her, my eyes never left him. During the party my mother had rearranged my room a bit, she brought up a little table from the garage and put it by the window where my toy chest normally sat. There she placed the cage containing my new pet, and stood back. Chester continued to gaze at us all, hair slightly raised.

Oh how I adored that hair. I've only known him for half a minute and I was deeply in love with this precious creature. I would've followed him to the end of the world.

After Mother had left, Polaris crept out from the closet and crawled beside me. "Oh!" he had gasped, "I thought I smelled someone different!"

Chester looked at him, whiskers twitching. After a pause, Polaris turned to me, "He's asking if this was his new home, I told him yes."

I nodded, understanding.

"There's no need to be scared of us, Chester, we're your new friends, we won't hurt you - see this boy here, he's your new owner."

"Hello Chester," I whispered.

"He also says that he wishes to get out of the cage, he wants to explore."

"But I don't think I ought to, Mother wouldn't want me to do that, she says to wait until tomorrow when he's settled."

"Yes I know, but being in that cage agitates him,"

"But I still think we ought to wait until morning, it's too dark now - what if I step on him by accident?"

"He say's that'll never happen, he'd stay clear of you."

"How did - ?"

"He understands english, he can't speak it or any human language but he understands you."

"Really?" It never ceased to amaze me how much Polaris could learn from his telepathy.

"Yes," turning to Chester he said, "We think it's best if you stayed there for the night, tomorrow, we'll be better, we'll be better organized, and have better lighting."

"He says he agrees, just as long as we release him first thing in the morning, we'll arrange something with your mother ..such a timid little fellow," he added, to me personally "He jumps at the slightest move we make - see?" he had flexed his paw ever so slightly and sure enough, Little Chester had shrunk further into the corner. I did not like that he was so easily startled, it didn't have to be that way. I wanted to relieve him of all fears.

"It's okay Chester," I had said in the high-pitched voice my mother and many others used when addressing small animals, "Don't be afraid, you're going to like it here, I know you will!"

Polaris shook his head at me, "Don't speak to him in that tone of voice, you're making him nervous, talk in your regular voice."

"Oh! I'm sorry, Chester," I told him, "sorry for unsettling you."

"I think we ought to leave him be," Polaris said pulling down the comforters, "We'll go to sleep now and tomorrow we'll sort everything out."

I did not feel sleepy. The last thing that I was capable of doing was going to sleep. But I agreed.

After my mother came upstairs to tuck me in and check Chester, and after she turned off the light, I fixed my gaze on my new pet.

His fur shone like silver in the moonlight. Those crystalline orbs shimmered like gemstones from another world. I gazed back into those eyes, who stared back at me from afar so long. Polaris had to practically force me onto my other side, reminding me that it was best not to make him feel anymore uncomfortable than he already was. I closed my eyes and tried to go to sleep, but it was near to impossible.

I wove in and out of conciousness, my head filled with thoughts of Chester and that _hair, _while at the same time I willed myself to _not _turn over and look at him.

When I did sleep, I had the most horrific nightmare.

I dreamt that I was a bird and I was lost in the darkness. I was in my room, bit was pitch black. Not a speck of light was in this room. And it was bigger, much, bigger - I could tell because if I had flown in my real room I would've come to a stop almost immediately as my room was but a few yards wide.

I flew for what felt like miles, as incredulous as it was, trying to escape the blackness that choked me, constricted my lungs. It felt very much like being in a really stuffy room in the summertime, without any air conditioning. I kept wondering where Polaris was - where my mother was, my brothers - I kept calling for them, but I had no voice. The silence terrified me. I flew about blindly, wondering why there were no walls in my dream. I expected to crash into something at any moment.

Nothing but endless space.

I screamed. I was screaming as hard as I could and not a sound escaped my throat. _Where were the walls? _I kept thinking, _Where was everything?_

More than anything I wanted to crash into something. I wanted to stop flying, and it occurred to me that I could land and feel my way to the door. So I gently lowered myself, stretching my feet out, expecting to feel the familiar wooden floor any moment now. Lower and lower I dropped and still nothing met with my feet.

It was then, I realized I was falling. Cold terror swept down my spine. I beat my wings, only to find in dismay that I not only was falling - I was being _pulled _into the darkness by some invisible force. If it was possible, the darkness around me grew darker and darker as I fell faster into the abyss.

My heart nearly stopped as I landed amongst branches - or rather something billowy and cotton..

In a panic, I beat my wings in attempt to escape the web of curtains. But they held me fast and I thrashed about, becoming more entangled in the things every second..I couldn't breathe - I couldn't think - I could no longer move my wings - pain shot through my arms as I tried to wrench them free. But tighter and tighter the gossamer wrapped about my neck. I had no breath, I could not move - the fabric scratched my face so that it bled, scraping against my neck, peeling my feathers off, my hair -

A voice cut into the silence, seizing my heart, "Fred - Fred - wake up!"

I opened my eyes, moonlight searing my vision. I struggled but found I couldn't move. Polaris had pinned me to the bed with his body, to keep me from falling off the bed I assumed. I glanced at him, his white fur standing out in the darkness. I had never been happier to see such a sight. Seeing that I was awake, he released me, settling back on his haunches.

"Are you alright?" he whispered.

"Yeah," I tried getting up but the sheet was wrapped tightly about me.

"Here, Let me help -"

He helped me free myself from the sheets, and for a moment I just lay there, waiting for my heartbeat to return to its normal pace.

"It was only a dream.." I murmured.

It had felt so real.

"Well it isn't." Polaris reminded me.

"It was too real to be a dream.."

"It wasn't, Fred, you were with me the whole time.."

I suddenly remembered about my birthday present.

Chester was staring at me, stock still, hair raised. Entranced, I gazed back forgetting about my nightmare for a moment until Polaris nudged me in the shoulder.

"You should probably go to the bathroom," he murmured.

He carried me over. I slid off his back and waited for a moment as he turned the light on with his nose. I expected a skeleton to be sitting on the toilet seat, waiting for me. But we were the only ones here. I went over and Polaris settled himself against the closed door.

"What did you dream about?" he whispered.

I didn't answer right away. I was fighting back tears.

"You hit me across the nose, that's how I woke up," Polaris said after a pause, "I wake up and found you _thrashing _about, with your arms flinging all over the place like crazy..it looked like you were trying to escape from something,"

I set the lid down gently on the toilet seat turned on the sink, the sudden spurt of water startling me.

"..and you weren't making any noise..that was the weird thing..usually you cry or talk in your sleep..but tonight you didn't make a single noise..it was kind of scary, I mean, you were like this -" he then began to lull his head back and forth, throwing up his paws and grabbing at the air, reenacting what I did.."It was almost like you were possessed or something.."

My stare melded into the threads of the wash cloth I held, trying as hard as I could not to blink.

"Fred?"

"I don't want to talk about it..."

"Why?"

"It was too scary."

"You dreamt of scary things before and you were able to tell me."

I shook my head, "I can't.."

I turned off the light and climbed up his back. Returning to my bedroom, which was lit up like the middle of the day (it had been a full moon around that time) We fixed the comforters and crawled back in. But I couldn't go back to sleep. I was terrified of facing the darkness again. After a while, I turned on the light.

The clock read 3:23

"I can't go back to sleep." I whispered to my friend.

"Neither can I."

We were silent a moment.

"Your still trembling, do you need your mother?"

I shook my head, "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

I did want my mother. But I didn't want to be a wimp. I shook my head again to empathize my decision.

"Do you want to go downstairs and watch television?"

We both went downstairs together. There was hardly anything other than news or cooking specials at this hour. I don't remember what we settled on. It didn't really matter. The living room was washed with a bright glow.

Nestled against my friend's stomach, I was as safe as could be. But my mind was far from easy.

Hours went by, and by then the morning light crept into the living room.

Polaris had fell asleep long ago. But I stayed awake, but now it was a terrible trial keeping my eyes open.

Finally it became unbearable to keep my eyes open. closing my eyes a blissful stupor swept over me, banishing every fear as I reluctantly surrendered to my fatigue.

I lost all concept of time, it stretched on as I dwelt in quietude fr some time. eventually I found myself where i often find myself beneath the kitchen sink,

What they were talking about i could not say, their words coming from afar, their tone was ominous though. I wondered whether they would mind if i intruded upon their argument, after all I have been in here a while and I was terribly hungry.

All was quiet, i noticed right off, my mother had stopped talking.

Thinking that maybe they were done, I pushed open the door and had set my feet outside when I saw him.

He was clutching our frying pan, and it was dripping blood.

"Fred, come outta there, I would like a word with you -"

I wrenched open my eyes, meeting the bright, morning sunlight.

Second time I woke up with my heart racing and drenched in perspiration.

As it was another typical morning at that particular time period.

The TV had been turned off. I heard my mother humming in the kitchen, and grabbing Polaris - now in his stuffed bear form - and hurried into the kitchen.

To my surprise, Chester's cage was sitting on the kitchen table.

"Good morning, Freddy!" my mother greeted me, "How are you this morning?"

"Okay I guess."

"Just okay?"

"Yep."

"The TV was on when I came downstairs - were you not feeling well in the night, Fred?"

"A little bit,"

"You had a stomach ache?"

"Not exactly,"

"What was it then?"

"I had a bad dream..Polaris woke me up and he said I ought to do something to get my mind off it, so we watched TV,"

"Was it bad?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me about it,"

"I don't remember much of it now, but it was really scary, that's all can remember of it,"

"It was probably the birthday cake, a lot of sugar will do the trick, you know."

"Yep - is that bacon?"

"yes, these pieces are yours so help yourself, both Chad and Stewart had theirs already."

"Where are they?"

"They said the were meeting Duncan over at the park."

I looked at the clock, "It's ten-thirty?!" I gasped.

"Yes, you slept late - you want your eggs scrambled, right?"

"Yep,"

"You ought to save your bacon for your eggs,"

"I am, I'm just eating one,"

"These eggs won't take more than a few minutes."

I settled down at the table, placing Polaris in the seat beside me. The one extra seat at our table I've always reserved for my friend. My mother kept the stack of books that I placed there so he could sit properly. Chester watched me, his gaze transfixed on me, nose twitching. He sat absolutely still. He looked as if he wasn't sure whether to be afraid or not, and so he remained stationary just to be safe.

"I brought him down here because I figured he was lonely," my mother said to me, "Do you like him Freddy?"

"I do."

"I know it wasn't what you wanted most, but..well.." she paused and smiled at me "I'm sure he will be very fun, Fred."

My mother had a terrible allergy to dogs and cats. The closest thing we ever had to a pet was a baby bird that Chad had found in our yard.

I think I was around two years old, but I remembered it quite clearly, even now. It died shortly after we saved it, it got tangled up in our curtains, a sight which still haunts me to this day. It upset us all, but it affected Chad worst of all.

I shook my head rapidly.

"No! No - I like him, Mom, I really, _really _like him! Honest!"

"Really? Well, I'm glad to hear that, I just was hoping you weren't disappointed or anything, I mean I know you boys had wanted a dog or a cat -"

I rushed over and hugged her as hard as I could around the middle.

"Oh!" she gasped, and I looked up at her, "Momma! He's the best gift I've ever got in my whole life! I don't want any other pet!" It was true, all the cats and dogs in the world couldn't win me over now..no creature could compete with that _delightful _thick hide.

"Well, that's good, Fred," she smiled, bending down to kiss the top of my head, "I feel better now."

"Polaris told me last night that we ought to leave him be for a while - until he gets settled," I informed her, "He says that Chester's very nervous and we need to give him his space so he won't be overwhelmed."

"Really?" she raised a brow a me, then nodded thoughtfully, "Hmm, maybe that's a good idea, he's a smart bear." she added, nodding to my stuffed friend.

"Yeah."

"You know, it's a funny thing," she said, placing my breakfast in front of me and settling down in the seat opposite of me, "Most people, like when they go to parties or move into a new place with lots of other people or if they get a job, if nobody gives her a warm welcome and ignores her, we tend to feel inferior, like we don't matter, but animals are different, some need to distance themselves and once they're comfortable with everything, then they come over and socialize,"

"Why is that?"

"Well animals would get scared if you start hugging them or shaking a ball in front of their face, they want to have a look around, they may not feel safe or comfortable around their owner just yet, but once he finds out that his owner is patient and considerate, they'll go to them," she shrugged "I think I'm a lot like Chester here, I'm kinda shy so I don't like it when a lot of people are paying attention to me,"

"But you're not shy!"

"I am! I'm terribly shy!"

"But you never look or act shy,"

"That's because for the most part I have to put that aside to communicate with people, like at my job, when I'm visiting people,"

"And this ones a very shy one," she said indicating to my new pet, "When I went into your room this morning, he curled up into a little ball - he was like that at the store when I bought him, all the other hamsters were either taken or their fur was all matted and icky, and I didn't want to get a sick hamster, and Little Chester here was the sleekest, most energetic critter of the lot!

"That's right! I'm talking about you! You were the prettiest one there, yes you were, Chester!"

"He doesn't like it when you talk to him that way," I reminded her, "talk to him in your regular voice."


	4. Sweet Dreams, my fuzzy friend

**Disclaimer: I do not own Courage the Cowardly Dog or any of it's characters.**

Chapter Three: Sweet dreams, my fuzzy friend

For the remainder of that week, I tried my best to not pay too much attention to my new pet, as he explored my room. It had been a great test of patience, but I pride myself as a very patient person, even then. It was important that he get used to me, so I spent whatever time I had when I was not at school or with my family in my room. Thankfully Polaris was there to engage me in games and activities to keep me from thinking too much about Chester

I tried to teach him to play checkers, but his paws were too big, he swept all the pieces off the board. So he helped me with rehearsing my puppet plays. I often put on puppet shows for my family, using my stuffed animals. I would reenact all the classic fairy tales and children's stories. At the time I was my version of The Little Red Hen. The two things that differenced my story from the original was that the Hen beat her house guests over the head with a rolling pin when they refused to help her out with the chores, and after they had been kicked out of the house, a boulder fell on them.

My brothers were amused by this twist, however my mother wasn't pleased in the slightest. She never found violence to be amusing in any way. I tried to justify the manslaughter by telling her that they deserved it because they were being mean and wouldn't help her.

"perhaps they were busy," she told me, "You shouldnt punish someone if they're busy."

"But they weren't busy - look!" I showed her the illustrations in _The Little Red Hen, _"See - they're just lying about doing nothing!"

"Oh, so they are," she replied, then added after a moments thought, "I still don't like it that they were killed at the end..or that they didn't get a slice of bread."

"But that's how the story goes, Momma."

"What if we wrote our own story? Our own version of the Little Red Hen?"

I looked at her. I never heard such an idea in my life. And I rather liked it.

"Really? Could we really do that?"

"We sure could!"

"But how would it go?"

"Well, the little red hen would want to make bread - to feed her family and so she picked out some seeds at the store and she asked everyone, 'who will help me plant the seeds?' and the Cat goes "Not I,' and the dog goes 'not I" but the pig offers to help her. He say's 'sure I'll help you plant the seeds' and so they did.

"Then when the wheat is grown and ready to be picked, she asks everyone, "Who will help me cut the wheat?' and the cat says, 'not I, I have a mouse to catch,' and the pig says, 'I can't, I have to pay my bills.' but the dog says, 'I'll help you cut the wheat.' And so they worked together and soon all the wheat was cut.

"then it was time to take the wheat to the mill to be grounded into flour. So Mrs. Hen asks everyone, 'Who will help me carry this wheat to the mill?' and the cat says "Not I, I have to go grocery shopping,"

"The cat's not being very helpful," I pointed out.

"Oh he will be, you just wait! And so the Dog says, "I can't, I'm visiting my friends today.' But the pig says "I'll help carry the wheat, Mrs. Hen." And so they went off to the mill -"

"The pig is the nicest character," I said, "And the dog too."

"the cat's nice too, he's just got a lot on his hands..or paws!" She giggled and went on with the story, "When the hen brought the wheat home, she asked everyone 'who will help me make the bread?' And the cat says, "I will! I love making bread!" and the Pig says 'I'll help too!' and the Dog says 'count me in!'

"Then the Dog says, 'You should rest, Mrs. Hen, you've done a lot of work,' 'Yes,' chimes in the Cat 'You put your feet up and we'll make the bread.' and she says 'Thank you very much, that's so nice of you,' and so she sat down in the couch and the dog made her some nice tea and the three got to work.

"The Pig says 'I'll make the dough!' and the cat say's 'I'll knead it, since I'm very good at it!' and the Dog says 'I'll put it in the oven!"

"So the little red hen sat back in her chair and relaxed as her friends made the bread, then they all watched Tv while it baked. When it was done, Mrs. Hen called to her children to come in, then asked everyone, 'Would you like to stay for dinner?' And everyone said 'I will!

"And so everyone sat down and ate the delicious bread that everyone hd worked so hard to make together, and they all agreed it was the best bread they had ever tasted..The End.

"How'd you like that story, Fred?"

"Why didn't the children help out?" I asked her.

"I suppose they were all playing out in the fields,"

"But how come she didn't ask them to help her out?" insisted, "They could've helped her out when the cat and dog didn't,"

"Maybe she did, but they hid," she looked at me, "They hid out in the fields and in the bushes and when she came out and called them, they didn't come out, very much -" she added lowering her voice "Like two very _naughty _boys that i know."

I giggled, knowing she was referring to my older brothers, who always reneged on their chores.

"I still think they ought to help out."

"But then if everyone helped her there would be no story, would there?"

"I guess not,"

"Because if the little red hen had all the helpers she could ever ask for, there would be no trouble making the bread and there would be no interesting story to tell."

I didn't really understand then, but I agreed with her, "Yeah, I suppose."

"But anyway, do you like the story? Or do you think the original was better?"

"No, I liked this one, I like it out everyone got to eat the bread, because," I leant forward and whispered into her ear, "I used to feel so bad for the cat and dog and pig for not getting any bread."

"So do I," she agreed, "Which was why I never liked this story much."

"I did, but I like this one way better!"

...

...

"Momma?"

"Yes, Freddy?"

"...nothing."

"Now what is it dear? Spit it out!"

"I've been having these really scary dreams and i was wondering if...you could stay with me until I fell asleep."

"Of course I can do that Freddy - here, don't slip -" she said, helping me out of the tub, "Why didn't you ever come to me when you were scared?"

"I didn't want to trouble you."

"I'd rather know you were having trouble than to not tell me, that's what _would _trouble me."

...

...

Every afternoon i would come home from school and we would work on our play. Because I couldn't write all that well those days, She dictated whatever scenes I thought up during school, because it was a play we needed to extend the scenes a bit and add some dialogue.

We painted the scenery together, painting on some cardboard she bought at the craft store. I would paint the barn and the fields and the clouds, while she added details such as grass and flowers and birds in the sky. My mother liked putting detail into her flowers. She just made the most extravagantly beautiful flowers in all the world. I wondered why she didn't paint more often. She was a natural at this.

She replaced my tattered old curtains, and made these lovely curtains made from red velvet she found in her sewing box. I felt like royalty receiving them.

And the costumes! My darling mother went out of her way to make the most charming little outfits for my stuffed animals! For Mrs. Hen, she made a blue apron with a ruffled trim and a large apple-shaped pocket on the front, and a pretty little matching bonnet. For the Dog, Pig and the Cat, she made them all jackets of blue, black and green material, with matching little bow ties.

I couldn't speak as she dressed my toys in these darling things. I recall gazing at them, admiring them on my bed. I wanted to cry they were so beautiful.

It was people like my mother and Barbara that made the world shine.

...

...

"The moon's so beautiful," I had said with a sigh as my mother came in to tuck me in.

"Yes it is, Freddy, it's very pretty."

"Yeah."

"I've always wanted to go to the moon," she continued, "As a little girl I've always dreamed of becoming an astronaut and flying to the moon,"

"How come you didn't?"

"I guess I became interested in other things, as I got older I thought less and less about it,"

"Maybe you can still go," I told her.

"Whenever can I do that? I have you boys to take care of,"

"Well, maybe when we're grown up, and I'll be an astronaut with you! We can go to the moon together!"

"I'll be too old by then," she said, and for some reason it made me sad to hear her say that,"You can go though, Fred, you would make a wonderful astronaut,

"But I wouldn't want to go without you."

She looked at me, then pulled me into a hug, "Oh Fred," she sighed. After a moment she pulled away, "and I wouldn't want to go without you."

I tried imagining us floating about space. She holding my hand as we made our way over the moon's surface. We would gaze back at Earth, the only ones on the moon. Away from everyone. Well, I suppose Polaris might tag along. I wondered if Immortals could breathe in space. Though my heart sunk a little knowing that Chester would not be able to go with us.

Mother and I sat in silence, gazing up at the silvery moon. From somewhere behind us I heard Chester's jingle ball roll across the floor...

...

...

"What sort of dreams do you have?"

"Well, I would dream that I was an animal, like a dog or a bear..sometimes I'm a bird..and I'm always being chased by something and I can never get far from him..then I would get caught in something..I would try to get out, but I never could..but I always wake up before _He _caught me..

"I get so scared, I keep thinking it's real, and even when I wake up and see it's not, I still feel very scared, too scared to do anything.."

"It's not real, Fred, none of those dream are real nor will they come true.."

"That's what Polaris keeps telling me,"

"You should listen to him, he's a smart bear," she smiled, patting his head. She held me close to her, "I promise you these dreams will never come true, _He's _not coming to get you, Freddy, he'll never hurt you again..

"I know you will not tell inside a dream, because it feels so real, but know this now that your awake - you will _always _wake up..you will always wake up here in your little bed, and Polaris will be here, and so will I," she looked at me, gently touching my cheek, "I will always be here when you wake up, Freddy, you don't have to be scared of going to sleep, everything you see isn't real, no matter how scary or disturbing or real it may feel..it cannot hurt you."

She picked up my music box and wound it. Then she turned out the light and crawled beneath the comforters.

"I love you Freddy,"

"I love you too,"

"I'll see you in the morning,"

"Alright."

Nestled in the comforters, warmed by the presence of my mother, it was easy to dispense with pride. I didn't care that my mother slept with me. I no longer cared if i was being silly or a scaredy cat. All worries of what the children will think of me were cast aside. I've fought against the dark for so long, fearing of what it might have in store for me when I did dream. Now it has never felt more welcome. Drowsiness crept into my limbs, and into my head, filling my being with such bliss.

Something stirred in the corner of my bedroom. Polaris immediately informed me it was only Chester settling down. I sat up and saw him.

Moonlight filled the cage lighting up the fur on my pet.

"Fred? Is there something wrong?" my mother had turned over, evidently startled from her ascent into slumber.

I smiled sheepishly down at her, "Sorry, mom, I was looking at Chester."

"The moonlight makes him look like he's shining,"

"Yeah.." I nodded, delighted she thought so too. He certainly did look wonderful. His thick, fuzzy hide, those eyes - they would never fail to hypnotize ... me, who sat there, all former drowsiness swept away by a fervent, passionate desire. I was tempted to carry it out right then and there. But I decided not to, especially not while my mother was here! Why that would've been incredibly..._Naughty!_

...

...

My brothers didn't care much for the new revision of The Little Red Hen. But that didn't stop them from having a little fun.

We were all in Chad's room when it began. I was performing the entire play for them. All through the play, they were restless and shoved each other about while I tried ignoring them. Only when I was acting out the scene where Mrs. Hen and the Dog were harvesting the wheat did they begin to pay full attention.

"And then she got tired, and so she decided to take a nap," I was reciting moving the chicken stuffed toy towards a cardboard box, "So she crawled into her wheelbarrow -"

"wheelbarrow?" my brothers had giggled and one of their friends commented wryly "wheelbarrows very uncomfortable."

"Well, she did too - so anyway, then the Pig and the Dog found her sleeping in the wheelbarrow -" this prompted another round of sniggers from my little audience. I must confess, the sight was rather funny, as the macaroni box looked nothing like a wheelbarrow, but I was limited with certain props then, "-so they said 'Shh! She's sleeping!' and so they were all very quiet and they cut down all the rest of the wheat for her..

"And afterwards they all carried the wheat and the Dog rolled the hen to her house and they carried her upstairs to her room -"

"And she slept through all that?" Chad interrupted me once again.

"She must be a real heavy sleeper." Stewart chimed in

"Yes," I said, getting rather impatient by this point, "She's a very heavy sleeper! Now if you please stop interrupting - as I was saying, they put her into bed and tucked her in -"

"And then they _molested _her!" cried Duncan and they all fell over one another laughing hysterically.

"Hey! You guys!" I cried out, feeling very cross at them for not being a considerate audience, but at the same time I was just as curious about what he meant, "What does molest mean?"

They gathered themselves somewhat and exchanged glances with one another hiccuping with laughter.

I repeated my question, "what does molest mean? Stewart?"

"It means - it means -" and once again he fell backwards, chest heaving with laughter.

"What? What is it? Oh! This is not a _bad word, _is it Chad? Duncan?"

"No! No!" Duncan shook his head, "It's not a bad word at all! really! Honest!"

"It's just this really fancy word that's hardly ever used, that's all! No need to worry.."

"Well then, what does it mean?"

"It means - it means...massage."

"Really?"

"Y-yeah!"

"Then why are you laughing at it? What's so funny about a massage?" My mother gave me massages, all of us when we were really little and they felt quite nice. Thinking about them never inspired me to laugh.

"It just reminds me of this joke we heard Duncan's brother telling us the other night."

"Yeah, that's right!"

"It was a joke.."

"What was it?"

"It's..too inapprpropriate."

And that was the end of that matter.

That is, until I was all set to putting on the play for my mother's lady friends, who would call on her every Sunday, and they would have tea and talk for hours on end in my mother's kitchen. One of them, Mrs. Weatherly, was the librarian.

My brothers helped me rehearse, which then I thought was very nice and thought nothing of it. I was ecstatic that they wanted to rehearse with me, it was more than I could ever ask for. Of course it was only to have their fun.

"You ought to put the message line in there as well," Chad suggested, as we went through Mrs. Hen's nap, "I think it would be very nice - you know, to have your toes being massaged while your sleeping.."

"You wake up and they're not so stiff," Stewart added.

"Chad, are you _sure _molesting means massage?"

"Of course, I do, silly."

"Are you positive?"

"Yeah! look-if you're so worried I can look it up in the dictionary for you - Stewie, hand me my dictionary - it's on the desk..

"See here - molestation means to massage the feet - there!" He slammed the big book shut before I could get a look myself.

I carried out their prank, I'm ashamed to say.

I honestly thought they were being helpful and wanted to be my friends. I wanted so badly to be accepted as their friend, and besides they've helped me look up words on many occasions and they always turned out to be the correct meaning. You honestly had to watch out with those two - they would help you one instance and then pull a prank on you the next.

I would've been less gullible, but i merely thought they were helping me. I learned the hard way, I'm sorry to say.

"And so they carried her up to her room and they shut the door and locked it," saying the few lines Chad added to the script. and then - once again, I'm so ashamed to have said this - I uttered the dreaded sentence "Then they put her in bed and then they molested her legs for a good hour or so, before they -"

"Fred - stop," my mother cut me off suddenly. I noticed right off that she and her friends were gazing at me in horror. My stomach dropped, realizing my suspicions had been correct.

"What did you say young man?" Mrs. Weatherly had sputtered.

"Fred, repeat what you just said," my mother's expression was foreboding, and her tone terrified me just as much. Knowing I had no choice but to do so, I said,

"T-they they molested her feet, so she wouldn't wake up with sore feet," I swallowed, "And because the Pig and the Dog were professional molesters -"

Oh, what a wicked thing to say! What a vile, disgusting -_naughty_ joke! It is wrong to take pleasure in such a joke, but my brother's laughter was always so infectious that I could not help but laugh a little myself.

And immediately wished I didn't.

My mother stood up, and I deserved the bollocking that she gave me, for being rude and saying such _naughty _inappropriate things. And her lady friends joined in, shaking their fingers at me and all the while I wished that I could sink into the floor. I noticed that my brothers and Duncan had fled the scene. I felt very much betrayed.

Later, after everyone had left, my mother took me aside.

"Where did you hear that word?"

I shook my head, unable to speak. My mother stood there, her arms folded, waiting for my answer. I could only cry harder, ashamed to my very core at what I done.

"Stop crying, Fred."

"I'm t-trying..."

"Just answer me,"

"I'm really, really sorry, Momma!"

"Fredrick, look at me - now,"

I did as I was told.

"Now, _where _did you hear that word?"

I dried my face on the sleeve of my sweater.

"I'm waiting Fred."

"I-I don't kn-know.."

"Did someone say this word at school? Did they say it to you?"

"I don't - I don't know.."

"Do you even _know _what that word means? Did they tell you what it means?"

"Th-they said it meant massage! They told me it meant massaging, like when you massaged my feet when I was little! I didn't know it was a bad word!" I couldn't continue.

"You thought it was a foot massage? Is that what you're trying to tell me Fred?"

I nodded.

"Fred, darling," my mother knelt in front of me, her voice gentler now, but i didn't dare meet her gaze, I couldn't bear to see the disappointment that I was sure was in her eyes, "Tell me who said that word to you, and I won't punish you, but I need to know _who _told you that word.."

"I - I- " If I didn't tell her, I would still have my brother's trust, but I would be lying to my mother - and I _never _lied to her, not once. If I told the truth, then they would never speak to me again.

_No one likes a tattletale._

"Fred, stop wringing your hands like that, and there's no need to cry, I've told you you're not in trouble, here," she pulled her handkerchief from her pocket and gently dried my face, "Try to calm yourself, here blow your nose," I did so, and cleared my throat.

"I -" I stopped, and assuring that my voice was clear, said "I can't tell you,"

"Why not?" that tone crept back into her voice, and I almost lost my nerve again. Maybe i could tell her and not have my brothers get in trouble.

"Because they'll get mad if I tell on them," I plunged ahead, whispering frantically into her ear, praying in my heart that she would understand, "If I tell on them, th-they won't ever talk to me, or want me to be around them - I have not tattled on them, and they know I won't because I would never do so, but - but I want to be their friend so bad -"

"Who is this, Fred?"

"Promise you won't get mad,"

"Who is it?"

"And promise you won't ground them,"

I realized that I had given them away.

She stood up immediately and marched towards the stairs.

"Mom!" I cried, stumbling after her, "Mom! Please! Let me explain! It's not their fault!" I tugged on her dress, but she had already called up to them, "Chad! Stewart! Duncan! Come down here please!"

"Momma! Please don't ground them! Please!"

"Fredrick, you go to your room,"

"But Momma -"

"immediately!"

I stood there, and she gazed back at me, her arm outstretched, finger pointing towards my bedroom. She glared at me and I knew there was nothing more I could do. Dejected, I hung my head and proceeded to trudge slowly up to my bedroom. Chad, Stewart and Duncan passed me and my heart sunk hearing the steely edge in my mother's voice as she said, "Duncan, I think you ought to go home now."

She forbade television and any visits with friends until further notice. They complained loudly at the unfairness of it all. later she came up to my room and patted my hair, "Don't worry," she whispered to me gently in the dark, "I've called everyone up and explained everything to them, you didn't know what that word meant you are not at fault Little Freddy, shhh - shh, don't cry - don't cry -"

I so desperately wanted her to hit me. My mother had not spanked us since _He _left, but I terribly wanted her to do so then. It was not that I said 'molest' in front of her lady friends.

The next sunday, I preformed the play again - the _nicer _version that my mother and I wrote. They applauded and congratulated me and told me how professional of a puppeteer i was at that age. My mother then gave me ice cream with an extra scoop. But it sat flavorless in my mouth. It made me sicker with each spoonful. I didn't deserve it. I deserved nothing.

And just as I feared, my brothers did not speak to me for a week. They still had to baby sit me at times or walk me home from school, they even stood up for me. But they had to as because I was their little brother. But I was no longer their friend.


	5. My darling little Chester

**Disclaimer: I do not own Courage the Cowardly Dog or any of it's characters.**

**Author's note: I apologize if any of the dialogue or writing seems a bit rushed or flat in these chapters. I've suffered from extreme writers block lately (actually I'm ALWAYS suffering from writers block, it's crazy lol) and I'm terrible at dialogue and connecting scenes together in general. Please let me know if its readable.**

Chapter Three: My darling little Chester

In the month that followed my birthday, Chester was growing more and more accustomed to my room. I always hoped he would soon approach me. But every time I entered my room he would disappear under the bed or some other hiding place.

I allowed him to roam free around my bedroom. He never ventured out, as the hustle and bustle of the rest of the house intimidated him. He hardly ever went in his cage. I had to move his food and water bottle outside the cage. He slept in the toy box among my stuffed animals. Not before too long, he was sleeping on my pillow. He crawled about, familiarizing himself or at least that's what Polaris told me. Then he would play for hours on end with the various toys that I bought with my pocket money and left around the room. His favorite had been the neon pink ball with the jingle bell, as I recall.

One afternoon, i was doing my homework, sprawled down on my stomach, my books and papers spread out in front of me. For some reason, i always thought better while lying down. Chester was playing with his jingle ball, it rolled about, accompanied by the pitter patter of his feet, but I did not mind.

then the pink ball rolled onto the page I was working on. I looked up briefly, Remembering what Polaris told me and nonchalantly as I could, rolled the ball back, trying not to look too interested in him. I returned to my schoolwork, only to have the ball roll onto the page again. I looked at my pet.

He sat back on his haunches, dropping his paws to the ground only to lift them up again, he gazed at me expectantly and I realized what he wanted.

A slight stir coursed through my breast as I rolled the ball towards the bed. He disappeared for a moment or two and returned, pushing the ball towards me. Again I rolled the ball and he chased it. We played for hours, those being the happiest I've had since I got him.

Several weeks after that, our cousins came over for their weekly visit. My brothers informed them about my new pet. The moment they got home from school they thundered up to my room and demanded that they could play with Chester. Before i could protest, they pushed past me and clustered about my cage. I saw them run their hands over the cage and I warned them, "D-Don't open the cage! He doesn't like to be pet!" They did heed my warning, though that did not stop them from shoving their fingers through the bar and wriggling them at my pet. I heard him spitting from inside the cage, and a flash of pink darted about trying to flee.

Disturbed by my little friend's distress, I resorted to the only thing that I was sure would work.

"MOM!" I had cried at the top of my lungs, "TELL EVERYONE TO GET OUT OF MY ROOM!"

"Boys! Come down here!"

They disengaged their fingers from the cage and trudged out of the room, shooting me these hateful glances before slamming the door behind them.

I rushed over to make sure he was alright. His pink hackles rose on end. As concerned ass I was for my friend, i could not help but feel my senses rouse in a pleasant sort of way.

Impulsively I opened the cage and stuck my hand in - and would you have believed it he hopped right into my hand. He trembled like a leaf in my palm.

"Shh - Shh - don't be scared," I whispered to him, not daring to touch him anymore than i already was, "It's alright now, they won't come in here again, Mother will see to that."

I carried him over to the bed and placing him on the comforter before crawling up myself.

"They didn't know you don't like to be touched or pet, they weren't told proper - but I know - I know Chester, better than anyone, you needn't be scared of me.."

My hands were still open to him, hoping he would crawl back into them. Whether it was my words or that he was still shaken my the sudden turn of events, he crawled into my hands.

I leaned back against the pillows, and gazed down into the face of my fuzzy friend. He looked at me eyes blue and as bright as the sky. I could see all the little white eyelashes that grew about those entrancing orbs. I was tempted to stroke them. I didn't, of course.

At this point I was grateful, he allowed me to hold him. I did not want to do anything to frighten him away.

And then that day came, when he did allow me to touch him.

Like many a day in that particular time period, that day did not begin well.

I had another nightmare which made me completely agitated for the majority of the day. I could not concentrate well in class, and failed in both arithmetic and spelling. my peers played a prank on me which had involved slipping a worm into my lunch when i wasn't looking and laughed at me when i discovered it. My nerves being strung to the breaking point at the time, I did not handle the situation as calmly as I would've normally have done. They teased me mercilessly for the remainder of the day, and as I've mentioned, it was an average day - minus the worm - but that day, I could hardly handle myself, let alone the rest of the children.

I met up with Stewart after school and he very kindly offered to walk home with me. But then the class bully, Georgie and his friend Bruce caught up with us and taunted me. Thankfully Stewart did stick up for me. i best spare the details as they did exchange nasty words and insults. I was scared out of my wits. But I couldn't run away, as that would mean abandoning Stewart. Even though he was capable of taking care of himself, I would never do such a thing to my brother. and I didn't have the heart to fight.

Sickened, I watch Bruce circle us, leering at me. And Stewart's and Georgie's verbal match was getting nastier every moment. They were at each other's throats calling each other the most un-repeatable names I have ever heard of. I wondered myself where on earth did they get these words from.

But then, just before things got particularly ugly, Polaris showed up.

He was disguised as a boy, around my age or so, with messy blond hair and wearing an enormous coat. He ran up to us, his pant bottoms shuffling against the sidewalk as he made his way over, "STOP!" he cried out, causing every head to turn in his direction, "You two!" he said addressing Georgie and Bruce, "I _demand _you to leave these boys alone!"

Telepathically he said to me, "Get in the tree," indicating a large maple in front of the house on our right. The branches were reachable and I was a good climber anyhow. I hurried to the tree, expecting a pair of hands to suddenly grab me from behind. But both bullies were watching Polaris lose his composure by the second.

"I was over there and I believe these boys were not tormenting you in any way, so, I think it best -" by this time, he was shivering violently, his legs didn't seem they could support him another moment, "That you two boys run along home and, erm...hmm.."

Even if he had his wits, he still couldn't have prevented the fight. Georgie was not a child to be reasoned with.

"That's really funny," he said after he and his chum had a good laugh, "Whadaya say you repeat that to my fist here?"

Within a few moments, Polaris was seated beside me in the tree. Normally I would've been thankful for coming to my aid. But I was overwhelmed by everything else that happened to me, I felt very much cross at him for acting so cowardly.

Stewart and Georgie's fight lasted only a few minutes, as a woman stepped out of the house on the right, "Hey! Break it up you two!"

She started over and both Georgie and Bruce fled.

"Are you alright young man?" she had asked Stewart helping him off the ground.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"I must say, you've got the sailor mouth on you," she shook her head at him, "That I don't approve."

"Sorry, ma'am, you see, they were picking on my brother, and well.."

"I understand, but next time, just ignore them, giving any bully more attention just makes things much worse.."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Where is your brother anyhow?"

"Up there in the tree - hey! Fred! You can come down now!"

"You boys best run along home now, and remember what I said," she wagged her finger at Stewart, "They're not worth your attention."

"Yes, ma'am."

After the woman had left, Stewart turned to Polaris, "Who are you?"

"Oh, um - um - Pete."

"I've never seen you before."

"I live on the other side of town..around the outskirts,"

"You guys know each other?" he asked us.

"N-no." Polaris replied. I silently shook my head.

"Huh," he stared at Polaris who begun to tremble slightly again, "How old are you?"

"Uh - ten."

"You look pretty young for ten,"

"W-well, I am t-ten."

"I've never seen you in school."

"I go to a different school,"

"Where is it?"

Polaris was fidgeting all over the place by now, 'Oh, um - um - the next town over,"

"In Somewhere?"

"Yep."

"That's a long drive."

Polaris shrugged and said nothing. He wasn't all that good at lying, as he never needed to. He could think up pretty clever answers, but they were never thought through or he didn't know about them too much to explain.

"What did you think you were trying to accomplish?" I asked him.

"He was picking on you, and if there is one thing I hate most in this world is those who pick on the weak," Polaris said, "Someone had to put that bully in his place,"

"Well you certainly did a fine job at that." I replied dryly.

"Yeah," Stewart chimed in, "But seriously, that was kinda funny -" he gave a short laugh, "I mean , I never knew a guy who could say that to George Brown's face! That took serious _balls, _man!"

"Really?" Polaris said, a small smile playing across his reddish face.

" Yeah but unless you want your ass handed back to you, you're better off running away..unless you know how to fight, which I seriously doubt."

"Stewart," I tugged on his sweater, "I'd like to go home now."

"I ought to head home myself, I'm due for supper and mother hates it when it gets cold," he gave a short wave before running down the street.

"What a weird kid." Stewart commented, "I wonder why he was so keen on saving you,"

"He just said,"

"Yeah, but most kids, especially wimpy ones like him, wouldn't risk their lives for some stranger.."

I didn't reply. I felt so tired. My stomach felt queasy and a headache was building up around my eyes. I wanted to go home and curl up in the furthest corner of my closet and not emerge for several days.

"You can fight monsters, scare away ghosts but you can't stand up to two nine year olds?" I said to him the minute I got home.

"I know -"

"You're one of the most powerful people in the world and you're scared of two little children?"

"I know, I know.."

"Your immortal and you can't feel pain," I ranted on, my anger getting the best of me, "And you can't stand up to two mortal children? Even Stewart made some effort in standing up for me!"

"I couldn't just stand there and watch you! I felt like i had to do something!"

"What was the purpose of coming to save me if you were only going to cower up in the tree with me?"

"You didn't get beaten up today,"

"I can take care of myself, thank you very much!"

"You can barely function in your daily life, there's no way you can face them alone,"

"I said i don't need you!"

"Fine, you don't need me,"

"Yeah! I don't!"

There was a knock at the door, "Fred?" came Stewart's voice, "Who are you talking to in there?"

"Nobody!"

"I can hear you from my bedroom, you know."

"Just go away, Stewart!"

"Alright! Sheeesh!"

I turned to him. Polaris glared back and crossed his fore limbs in a gesture of indignation.

"So the next time Georgie decides to corner you, I won't try to save your sorry skin,"

"That would be just fine!"

"I don't know why I even care about you, you don't even deserve my help, you ungrateful little brat!"

"I'll be braver than you could ever be with humans, you coward!"

"Yeah well starting tomorrow, your on your own kid!"

"That's fine with me!"

"Good!"

"FINE!"

There came another knock at the door. I sighed in exasperation, "Stewart, I said leave me alone!"

"It's Momma."

"Oh, sorry.."

"That's okay," She said opening the door, "Stewart said you were talking loudly to someone,"

"I was talking to Polaris," I replied holding him up, "We were, uh, having an argument - but we settled everything!" I added quickly, "So that's what you heard.." I trailed off.

"Stewart told me you were having a bad day at school,"

"Yeah,"

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"...not really," I suddenly felt like crying, "Can I please be alone for a while?"

"Of course," she replied softly, "Suppers downstairs when you want it..okay?"

"Okay."

After she had gone, I crawled up onto my bed. Tugging my pillow out from the pile of stuffed animals, I placed it over my head and wept.

Polaris had crawled beside me. He said nothing. There was nothing he could say that could comfort me in any way.

Normally, I would cry myself to sleep and my mother would have to come and wake me up for my supper. But on this particular occasion, I felt this wet nose on my wrist and looked up, promptly meeting Chester's face. He hadn't approached me since the cousins came over. I watched him, wanting him to come closer.

And he did. He inched so close, and I sat perfectly still, as he moved closer and closer. And to my surprise, he licked my cheek.

I was so startled that I forgot to cry.

"What are you doing?" I asked him, my voice croakish from crying.

"He's comforting you," Polaris told me, "He wants to know what's wrong."

"Some kids at school were picking on me today," I told him, hardly believing anything, "They put a worm in my lunch and m-made fun of me for crying..I couldn't help it, it s-scared me so bad.."

Chester blinked up at me, his expression unreadable.

"Fred is weaker than most humans, even for a child," Polaris explained to him, he shrugged at me and continued, "His peers like to torment him for their own amusement," he shook his head at me, "He doesn't understand, bullying is a concept he doesn't understand, he never had hamsters pick on him, nor had he ever heard of such an occurence."

"Y-you're lucky then." I sniffed, drying my eyes.

Chester's whiskers twitched and he blinked again, lowering his head as if in thought. Then turning to me, she moved closer and butted his head against my hand.

"He's trying to tell you to not worry about it," Polaris told me, "He says he's here for you."

And even then, I knew it was more than that, he was returning the favor, for what I had done for him.

He trusted me to know that I wouldn't hurt him in any way and thus was willing to care for me and protect me as I would care and protect him.

"I thought you didn't like to be touched." I asked him.

"He actually does, but _not _without his permission," Polaris smiled, "But you have his permission now.."

It just occurred to me now - how similar gaining my pet's trust was to my courtship with Barbara.

As eager as I was to tell her how I felt and how much I loved her, I waited. Waited for this moment as I did a boy, when Chester licked my cheek.

When time came and she revealed that she loved me, kissing me afterwards, I knew there were no barriers between us. I was able to tell her words of my endearment to her every day, I was able to hold her hand, to touch her face, to hug and kiss her..

A similar ache growing in my heart, released by her lips on my cheek, and with his paws touching the palm of my hand. I was frozen me to the spot, yet warmed to the core of my being.

I felt I had won the world. I now held the keys to the universe. Entered the realm of indescribable happiness.

I cannot explain how I felt. No words can give that feeling justice.

Such a feeling was very nice, it made me particularly.._Naughty._


	6. With this said, Mr Fred will challenge

**Disclaimer: I don't own Courage the Cowardly Dog or any of it's characters. **

**The title of this chapter is based on a line from "Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite" one of my all time favorite Beatles songs.**

**I don't own the song Cat Ballou or the lyrics, or the movie.**

* * *

Chapter Five: With this said, Mr. Fred will challenge the world!

I know how I came to have this dream. I saw the posters on my way home from school. The red-and-white stripe sent shivers down my spine. And for the rest of the day i could not stop shivering.

But the worst came about in sleep, as it always did.

_The room rotated about me - a room where the walls were mirrors. Every pane of glass reflected my pitiful, wretched form. I wore a skeleton mask, similar to the one that Chad wore for Halloween. And on either side of me stood two children, a boy and a girl, neither i recognized. They jeered and laughed and taunted me. Though I could not hear anything that they said, their harsh tone intimidated me._

_I sat, cowering, curled up on the ground, hating myself. I hated my weakness, my inability to sit up straight, to walk away. But knowing they'd only keep me down and bully me even more, I waited, in agony, for the jeering to stop._

_And then, all of a sudden, it became quiet. _

_The taunting voices became quieter and quieter, muted to a faint buzz. And for one relieved moment I thought I was waking up._

_Then I heard Polaris' voice._

_"I've just figured it out," he said, "Well, actually I thought of this a while ago, but I just figured it is the best step to execute at this moment -"_

_I looked about the room. The children were gone. My eerie reflection gazed back at me from each wall. But the room was empty._

_"Down here - I'm in the floor -"_

_I looked down, startled to see Polaris' face beneath the glass tiles._

_"Now listen, Fred, this is important," he said in a manner like we were going to discuss something confidential, "The reason these ghosts keep persisting is because you keep pushing them away, and I've done some figuring, that these ghosts will only keep coming after you if you keep on being afriad..you know how a rooster will sense your fear and attack you?" i nodded "and how a bully will persist if you act afraid?" I nodded again, "Same principle, you need to stand up to them yourself."_

_Polaris had done this so many times. Because I was never keen to talk about my fears, he would come to me in a dream where I was less likely to be resistant._

_I glared at him, feeling angry at him, "I don't wish to talk about this."_

_"Look - hear me out on this, will you? Don't shut me out - keep listening, I'm not finished explaining yet - I'm not asking you to stand up to them now, but try and think what kind of fears they may be feeding off of you?"_

_"Polaris - "_

_"I'm only asking you to state your fears - for example, name everything that you fear, deep down..not stuff that your afraid of like the fields, or Georgie, or ghosts - what do you fear they will do to you?"_

_"I'm not doing this -"_

_"You have to, Fred, tell me - what do you fear most? Deep down inside, what scares you the most?"_

_"No - no -" Don't make me do this, don't make me talk about this, I'm afraid - I'm afraid of what might happen if I say them aloud - I'm afraid -_

_..._

_..._

_"...yes, there will come a time when everyone will die..your mother, your brothers, your grandparents, your Aunt Muriel, no one lives forever.."_

_"You do,"_

_"Yes, I will, I will live forever and ever, long after you die.."_

_"Will you leave me before then?"_

_"Why would I leave you?"_

_"I don't know..would you?"_

_"Not unless you want me to,"_

_"Then will you stay with me..forever? Until the day I die?"_

_"I can..and I will,"_

_"You promise?"_

_"I promise..I will never leave you..We'll always be together."_

_We'll always be together._

_Those were his exact words._

_"Until the day you die - and not before then, I will always be with you Fred."_

_He had promised me._

_The wolf gave a vicious snarl_

_and leapt._

...

...

It was the first time I woke up screaming.

I tumbled out of bed, bumping into things in the dark, trying to make my way over to the door. Legs throbbing, the horror - oh gracious the horror - replayed in my mind as i stumbled blindly in the hall, sobbing, calling, voice high and hysterical, "Mom! MOMMA! Mom!"

I collided against something large, and soft. My mother gasped in surprise and I clung to her.

"Fred? Fred? What's the matter?" she asked picking me up, "Fred! Are you hurt?"

The light turned on. I heard Chad's groggy, "What the hell's going on?"

"Fred? Talk to me - what's the matter?"

I couldn't answer, I wailed helplessly, terrified down to my very bone marrow at what I had just witnessed. I couldn't bring myself to speak. My mother set me down, felt about me, "Fred, answer me are you hurt? What's wrong?"

"I - I had a bad dream!" I finally managed to say before another wail tore from my throat.

My mother attempted to sooth me. But my mother could not calm my fears this time.

She picked me up and carried me back to my room. Gently placing me in bed, she turned on the light, "Fred," she said touching my forehead, "What was it? What did you dream about?"

"I - I -" I stammered, failing to gain control of myself. Curling up, I covered my face with my arms, my own shudders of fear becoming painful. But my mother held me close to her, pulling me into her lap, her strong arms holding me against her chest until the spasms lessened.

"Fred, it's okay, it's okay, I'm here..I'm here.."

"I dreamt," I managed to gasp, scared to say the words, though I did, with great difficulty, "I dreamt Polaris died!"

"Oh, is that all?" I started upon hearing Chad's voice. Evidentially he followed my mother into my room, "All this fuss for his stupid bear?"

"Chad," my mother said evenly, "Go back to bed."

"Fine."

"But Freddy," my mother spoke to me gently, "Polaris isn't dead - look -" she reached over "Here he is, look Freddy - there," I took him and pressed him against my face. I felt him trembling from deep within, "Tell me about your dream, Fred, come on.."

I had calmed down considerably, enough to speak, but I still trembled, "I dreamt the ghosts got him, they - they grabbed him, and the wolves started biting him, they were tearing off his legs and his ears and the - the skeletons pulled apart his face -" I began to cry again, "He's not supposed to die! He's not supposed to die! He's an Immortal! He can't die..he can't die.."

"Freddy, he hasn't been torn apart - look, he's here, he's here.."

...

"Fred, I think this is a symbolic dream,"

"Wh-what does symbolic mean?"

"It means that perhaps your dreaming about Polaris dying, doesn't mean that he died but rather, a part of you died,"

I blinked up at her, "What?"

"Polaris is real to you when you're a boy, but when you grow older, you'll start playing with him less and less and one day you won't think about him anymore, and once you grow up, you give away your toys because you no longer play with them..Polaris dying in this dream may mean your beginning to grow up.."

I shook my head rapidly, "No! No! You don't understand! Polaris isn't really a stuffed animal! He's real! He's a real person! He turns real! He becomes a real polar bear! He isn't even a polar bear!" I told her everything - everything that Polaris ever told me about himself, about his kind, about where he came from and the reason why he didn't talk to humans and why he was afraid of humans.

She gazed at me, listening to my explanation without a word. Adverting her gaze, she stared, deep in thought.

"Well, I could only assure you that Polaris will not die and no one is going to hurt him, for everything you told me," she paused, "If you insist he is real, then maybe I was wrong about the dream, but I have nothing else to say."

"Well, I think I'm going to make some coffee, it's getting light out, would you like some cocoa, Freddy?"

"Yes, please," I nodded, drying my face on my sleeve, "And could you make a cup for Polaris?"

"Yes, I can." she said smiling at me.

When she left, Polaris stretched his forelimbs in front of him, and climbing out of my lap, grew to his normal size and shook himself.

"It will never happen, Fred I will never die."

"But how do you know?"

"Because I'm Immortal, you know that!"

"But, what if..you're wrong?"

It just occurred to me then that there may have been a possibility that Polaris wasn't correct in saying that he was invincible. Was there a possibility that he _could _be killed? He did tell me that he did not know the answers to everything.

"That is correct," he replied to my thoughts, "But I _do _know this for a fact - I _cannot _be killed by _anything or anyone."_

He sat back on his haunches and continued, "I've been shot, ripped to pieces, poisoned, I've once been bitten by a rabid dog, killed and my body was burned in an incinerator and i was reborn within minutes from the ashes..i've been eaten, digested and awoke in a river of feces in the sewer..I've died nearly every death on this earth, and here I am - still alive!

"And if you still doubt me, I can prove it -"

"No! No! Please -"

"Then stop worrying!"

"I'm not!"

"You will," he mumbled beneath his breath, "You will worry about it still - God dammit!"

I stared at him in shock. Polaris _never _swore.

"Why don't we just add this to the thousands of worries you have everyday! I swear they will be the end of you someday!" He let out a sharp breath between his clenched teeth, his hackles raised slightly. I turned away, disturbed and ashamed.

"I'm sorry," he said after a pause, "I didn't mean any of that," he crawled beside, hanging his head, "Your dream just unsettled me."

"Why should it? you said yourself you can't die."

"Yeah, but I don't enjoy it, in fact," he gave a sigh, "It scares me to die, much like it is scary to get yelled or sworn at..I'm sorry I said that word."

"It's alright, really."

My mother came into the room then, carrying two steaming cups.

"Fred your cocoa's really hot, so I'm gonna set it here to cool." she placed the steaming mug on my beside table and set her coffee beside it.

"Now," she began, seating herself beside me against the pillows, "I have another theory about what your dream might be about, but I need to know more about that it," she stroked my hair gently, "Are you feeling well enough to tell me it?"

"It's too awful."

"You'll feel much better afterwards,"

I fixed my gaze on the steam from my cocoa. I swallowed and took a deep breath.

"I was in the House of Mirrors, you know like at the carnival?" She nodded and I continued, "Well there were these two children, and they were - no, wait - Polaris wasn't with me yet..let me see..

"I dreamt that Polaris wanted to talk to me, he said that I had to think about my fears, in order to face them..because I needed to to fight off the ghosts.."

"The ghosts that you see outside your window?"

"Yes, he said that I had to think of everything that frightened me the most..but I didn't want to, and I was angry at him for wanting me to.." I paused.

"Was that when he was attacked?"

"No..I told him...I told him.." it pained me to say this, "I was afraid that you, and Chad and Stewart and Aunt Muriel would die, and I would be all alone..then he told me that he would never die, and I made him promise me that he would stay with me until the day I died and he promised..

"And then..the dream changed, I was in a different room..it was so dark that I couldn't see anything..but I saw Polaris..and..the ghosts, they were there too.._all of them.._

"The wolves charged at him, and they bit him, and the the others - the skeletons, they all grabbed him and...began to rip his face off -" I was shuddering to violently, my mother had to hold me still, "It happened so fast and I still remember it s-so clearly.."

After I had calmed down, my mother spoke, "But what if you think about it like this, Fred - in a dream when you die, it means that some part of you is growing, changing..a way of thinking or belief that no longer needed in your waking life is coming to an end..perhaps your polar bear is growing out of some old habit or way of thinking..do you think that is possible?"

"I guess.."

"That must be it!" she nodded decisively and kissed me on the forehead, "That's probably what it means, and as for you not dreaming of your ghosts until now..well, theres always a first time for everything, right?"

"I suppose.."

She gave me a hug and stood up, "Now, why don't you go downstairs and sit on the couch and I'll put on some music, it'll make you feel better..here, bring Polaris and your cocoa with you, I think it's cooled enough now.."

...

What I liked most about Saturdays, aside from the fact that I didn't have to go to school, was that I was able to listen to my entire record collection.

Actually they had belonged to my late father. According to my mother, he loved music, being a musician himself. He collected music over the years. My brothers never listened to them, as they were more into the rock music that was popular back then. But I was the only one aside from my mother who listened to them. But whenever we played them, my mother would get teary-eyed and silent. I never knew how to act around my mother when she was upset.

My mother rarely cried. If she was sad, she would frown. Sometimes she would go in her room, or sit on the couch in the living room and I would find her knitting or with an open book on her lap. She would be staring down at the floor or off into space. She never cried during sad movies, not even when it was her favorite character who met their demise. She would tell us he was sad, but I never saw her cry for them as I've seen other people do.

My mother was very emotional: she laughed, she raised her voice when she was angry or displeased with something. She smiled. But she seldom cried. Which I supposed you could understand why I felt uneasy in her presence when she did cry.

I thought it made her miserable whenever I put them on, though she denied it. Once I asked if she could move the record player up to my room. But she shook her head, "No, because if I wanna listen to a record, then we would have to lug it down to the living room and lug it back up afterwards, and again if someone wants to listen to some music, and that's gonna be too much lugging, so, no, I think it should stay where it is."

"Mom, do you hate these records?"

She blinked at me as if I had something atrocious, "No," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "No, I don't hate them, I love them..why?"

"I don't know," I shrugged, feeling embarrassed, "Nevermind."

"It's just that..they bring back so many memories.."

The only record my mother didn't like was Cat Ballou, the theme song to a western musical with the same name. Ironically, it was the one I needed. Despite the theme about hanging the main protagonist, it had an upbeat tune, something that lifted my spirits and lessened the after shock of my nightmare, something that the other classical songs failed to do.

She didn't mind me liking it, so I was able to listen to it even in her presence.

I put the record on, and settled back as it begun to play, _"Now friends just lend an ear, for your now about to hear, the ballad of Cat Ballouuuu."_

I pulled Polaris close to me and buried my nose in the back of his head. The honey scented wool would often soothe me, but this time it somehow heightened my dread.

...

My mother's sister, Aunt Muriel, never had any children. So all my cousins came from my father's side. My father had seven siblings - two brothers, and five sisters. At that time, we had thirty cousins.

Every Saturday, we would either go to their house, or they would come to our house, each family took turns. Most occasions we would always see all of our cousins in one place, be it Aunt Delphine's farm (the largest farm in Someplace county) or at our grandparent's house. Every visit was a family reunion, a grand occasion.

My aunt Rose's children came over this particular Saturday afternoon. The eldest, Kessie, was fourteen years old. Despite being a girl, and being the age she was, she still liked to play with her brothers and other boys. She was a true tomboy, through and through. The boys admired her because she could beat everyone at hand wrestling and she could outrun all the boys at her school by a mile.

I loved all my cousins, mind, but she was whom I was particularly fond of. She was tough, but she was kind and always included me in everything they did. Though most of those times I refused to participate, mainly because they liked to play in the fields across the road.

Her brothers Bernard and Olaf were the same ages as Chad and Stewart (being twelve and ten) Paul was nine, and in the same grade as I was, but he liked to play with the bigger boys. The youngest was Charles. He was three years old, and very energetic. _Very _energetic. Kessie and I would often joke what would happen if we gave him a tablespoon of sugar, and we would make up the most outrageous consequences, and even Charles got into it, naming his own actions.

It was teasing yes, but for some reason, when Kessie teased me, or Charles, or I teased them, it was funny and we enjoyed ourselves. It was good teasing. None of our feelings ever got hurt.

"Whatcha been doin' today, Fred?" Kessie asked after we greeted one another.

"I've been listening to my records, that's all I've been doing, really.."

"Really? What records?"

I led her into the livingroom, Charles riding atop her shoulders. She gasped in delight, "Oh! Cat Ballou! I love that movie!"

"Really?" I never saw the movie, even to this day, I never got around to seeing it. But I've always known the theme song.

She placed Charles on the couch and turned on the record player. The music started and she began to sing, "Now friends just lend an ear, for your now about to hear, the ballad of Cat Ballouuuuuuuu!"

I loved watching her sing. It was a great pleasure to watch her lips, her expressions, listening to her voice..

"It's a song that's newly made, and Professor Sam the Shade and the Sunrise kid are singing it for you -

"C'mon, Fred!" she laughed gaily, "Dance with me!"

I eagerly stood up and took her hands.

"It's a hanging day, In wolf City Wyoming, Wolf City Wyoming,"

"Eighteen-ninety four -"

"They're gonna drop Cat Ballou through the gallows floor!"

Charles sat and watched us until halfway through the song, then he jumped up and begun dancing with us.

"She has the smile of an angel!" I sang, thinking of how pretty Kessie's was. Her line's were drowned out by Charle's enthusiastic cries of "She's the devil!"

"She's mean and evil through and through!"

"Cat Ballou! Cat Ballou!"

"She's mean and evil through and through!"

Soon it became just the three of us jumping about, whooping, and hollering and singing and laughing until the music stopped. We collapsed together on the couch, giggling and trying to catch our breath.

"Let's do that again!" Charles cried.

"Whoa now!" gasped Kessie, "Just give me a second! I need a breather!"

I was seated in her lap, facing her, my ankles resting on either side of her. I was gazing at her hair. It was brown, the ends falling over her shoulders. Impulsively I reached up and touched it.

"I like your hair," I told her, "It's really pretty."

"Oh, why thank you, Fred!" she smiled at me, encouraging, my fingers gently curling into a strand, "That's very sweet of you."

I found myself unable to draw my hand away. Her hair felt so _silky _and _soft. _It was making me feel so _Naughty -_

"Hey now! Fred! Cut that out now!" Kessie's voice jerked me from my reverie. She took hold of my hand and gently disengaged it from her hair, "Do you have any idea how long it took me to do my hair?"

"Oh - um, um -" I stammered, taken aback, "-um a long time?"

She threw her head back and laughed very loudly, and I laughed too as I got the joke.

Kessie wasn't a girl who cared very much about her looks. She always let her hair fly free or tied back in a braid or a ponytail, but that was it. She never put it up in ribbons or kept it tidy like many girls I knew.

I blushed deeply at forgetting my manners. It was rude to touch a lady's hair, and I was well past the age where that would've been excusable.

But within moments that was forgotten as we all got up and danced again, only this dance consisted much of Kessie picking both Charles and I up and twirling us about, and Charles jumping all over the couches .

All was going well until I realized that Charles has been picking his nose - after I've been holding his hand while dancing and scratching my own nose.

Generally, I'm not at all afraid of germs. But it was flu season, and I didn't fancy the idea of getting sick.

I hurried upstairs to the bathroom where I washed my hands twice in hot - almost scalding - soapy water.

As I emerged from the bathroom, I heard Chad's voice emanating from his closed bedroom door. The mention of my name held my attention. But then my stomach churned as I realized what he was talking about.

"-It was so stupid, Fred woke us all at the crack of dawn, screaming like 'Whhhaaaaaa!'" everyone laughed, and Chad continued, "And he was just crying and screaming and shit, and then it turns out he just had a nightmare about his polar bear being eaten by monsters, or some shit, I don't know.."

"You mean that toy polar bear he's always carrying around?"

"He still plays with that thing?"

"Yeah, I mean, Fred's had nightmares and all, he gets them pretty much every night, but this was ridiculous!"

"Seriously, your brother's gettin' wimpier every time I see him." Bernard said.

I remembered the two children in my dream, who laughed at me in the room of mirrors. Recalling how frightened and ashamed I was, unable to stand up straight and walk away. I found myself resenting my brothers and my cousins, and I had half a mind to burst into that room and tell them off.

But even if I could properly tell them off, they would only laugh.

I went into my room and shut the door behind me. I suddenly wanted everyone to leave. I wanted the house to be quiet again.

Chester was hiding in my closet, his new favorite hiding spot and, according to Polaris, he was not coming out or showing his face until everyone has left. And since Polaris was a stuffed animal, I had no one to talk to.

Normally I would talk to Polaris whenever I felt sad or angry. But now that I knew that even his patience had it's limits, I didn't dare say a word to him.

So I sat and listened to the laughter and merry shoutings of my cousins. They jumped on the bed so that the bed springs squeaked loudly, and occasionally someone would crash into the wall. Once my mother had called up from the bottom of the stairs, "Everyone settle down! I feel as though the roof's gonna collapse on top of me!"

They would settle down, only to get as rowdy as they were five minutes ago. Downstairs, Cat Ballou started playing and Charlie's shouting was clear from up here. He seemed to get a kick out of the phrases, "She killed a man" and "She's the devil" Which probably meant he was going to be saying them for the rest of the day. He was one of those children that would hear something that they found amusing and they would repeat it at every opportunity.

But eventually that stopped as well. I was all set to return to my brooding, when I heard Bernard say, "When did this happen?"

My ears picked up on that and I strained to hear more, but everyone had lowered their voices so that all I could hear was incoherent mumbling.

Perhaps if it weren't for the fact that Polaris had become interested in what they were saying, I wouldn't have been compelled to find out more.

I crept outside, holding Polaris behind my back and stopped just outside of Chad's door.

"-they hadn't come to Someplace yet, as no one was killed there," came Olaf's voice.

"Where were these footprints?" Paul said.

"Duncan said they were out in the field, across the road," came Chad's voice, "Soon as he gets here, he'll show us -"

Suddenly my mother's voice rang up from the kitchen, "Boys! Lunch is ready!"

The door was immediately flung open and Stewart collided into me.

"Ouch! What the hell?"

"What were you doing?" Chad said.

"You know what mom said about eavesdropping," Stewart chimed in.

I looked at him and everyone else who had crowded about my brothers, "Um, y-you eavesdrop all the time." I replied.

"What's that behind your back?" Olaf pointed, no doubt having spotted Polaris.

"Holy crap, you were right!" Bernard laughed, nudging Chad, "Hey Fred, you're way too old to be playing with stuffed animals, you're not five anymore, you know!"

I tried to ignore them, keeping Polaris out of sight as best as I could, even though they were all leering at me, "What were you guys talking about?"

"None of your business!" Bernard shot back, but I persisted, "What did Duncan find in the field?"

"Did you not hear me? I said, it's none-of-your-bis-nessss!"

I frowned at him, "You don't have to be so mean." I mumbled following them down the hall, dropping Polaris at the head of the stairs before ascending.

When the four of us ate, my mother, Chad, Stewart and myself, mealtimes were quiet. My mother would have us talk a little about our day, and she would share her own experiences. And because we rarely had any extended conversations we would all eat silently. None of us were great talkers, but it was a peaceful, pleasant silence.

Meals with our cousins were absolutely chaotic.

Everyone talked over one another, they interrupted each other, fought, insulted one another, yelled and reached over everyone's plate to obtain more food or to smack somebody. My mother's attempts to restore order were always in vain. For as soon as everyone settled down, someone would irritate someone, another fight would ensue and whoever was holding a conversation would get annoyed by everyone else's rudeness and they too would join in the shouting match. Food would be thrown. Drinks would be spilt. Certain persons, who picked their nose quite often, would reach into _your _own plate and throw your food at whoever. Chairs would be toppled over. People would be laughing or crying or swearing. And appetites were ultimately lost.

Well, mine was anyway.

I always had to get away. I would excuse myself to go to the bathroom and sit on the toilet until the ringing in my ears stopped.

I suppose that was the only downside to the cousins coming over. Neither of them could get along very well, with their high tempers and lack of self control, and mealtimes gave them accessable weapons.

From where I sat, I heard my mother tell everyone that, unless they clean every inch of the living room, they would be banned from visiting our house for eternity. No one needed telling twice.

I think Duncan came along during that time, because when I came down from the bathroom, he was washing the dishes with Kessie.

Once that was cleared up everyone flocked to Duncan, after pulling on coats and tying their shoes. He led the way, with Chad and Stewart and Bernard following close behind him.

"Where you boys going?"

"To the fields across the road," Olaf replied.

"Okay, just don't wander too far,"

"We won't!"

"Be careful!"

"Yep!"

"I'm coming too!" Charles cried out in his high, little voice, but my mother gently stopped him, "Charlie," she said kindly to him, "Why don't you stay and help me bake some cookies?"

He immediately began to jump about, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" he shrieked in delight.

"Fred?" she turned to me, "You wanna help?"

"Um.." I looked back at the door. I was torn. I wanted to stay and help, I loved baking cookies more than anything. And yet, Bernard's words still rang in my ears.

"Oh, come on," my mother urged me, and that made my deciding even harder.

The door opened and Kessie's face popped into view, "Fred? You coming?"

"Y-yes, yes I am!" turning to her, i said, "I'm, um, gonna go to the fields with them."

"Oh, okay, well there will be cookies waiting for you when you get back."

I ran to get my jacket, and my scarf, and Kessie helped me tie my boots.

"Come on," she said, "They already left, so we have to catch up to them!"

...

Our house was located in the mid-outskirts, about two miles from town.

Supposedly, the area which we lived was one of the few places in Kansas with the most trees. And this didn't count the many apple orchards in the state. We were fortunate enough to have _two _trees in our yard, one in the front, close to our house and the other stood in the backyard.

My mother had a little garden, where she grew tomatoes, lettuce and other vegetables in several little wooden boxes. But to me the real garden was the raspberry groves.

Polaris, Chester and I spent many a day in the following summer playing in that little grove.

On either side of us, as far as the eye could see were endless fields. The field across from our house was a cornfield

We used to own seven acres of land behind our house. Our mother sold them to my father's aunt, Katherine Black. When she saw that our mother was getting by on her small job and welfare, she insisted on giving some of her money to us. Katherine was quite wealthy, and it had been an ongoing battle over who was going to get the fortune when she died.

She had given it to me in the end, years later when I grew up.

But I digress, as that is a completely other story.

...

The corn having been harvested long ago, the fields lay flat and barren as far as the eye could see. It was two o'clock in the afternoon, and the sun was getting ready to set, which was normal this time in November. The air was chilly and even though I wore a thick jacket, I still shivered.

"Do you wanna go back?" Kessie said to me kindly, "We don't have to go, you know."

"No," I shook my head, "I wanna see the footprint."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Polaris, in the form of a white cat, dart across the road, disappearing amidst a withered grove of cornstalks. I sighed in relief, my fears lessened considerably.

"So why do the fields scare you so much?"

"I..I got lost in the fields..not these fields, but the ones in the far out, almost to Someplace, I think..and it was really scary and..ever since, whenever I go into the fields, even if there isn't any corn, I remember it and I get so afraid.."

I wanted to tell her the whole truth. But if I told her about the ghosts and everything, then she would only say it was my imagination, or a dream. And I was beginning to get tired of everyone saying that.

"Yeah, i know how you feel," Kessie replied.

"You do?"

"Yep, I'm terrified of water, because once I nearly drowned when I was five, and ever since then i cannot go near water," she shrugged, "It's silly I know, but it was just so terrible that..I cannot look at a lake or a pool or even a puddle of water without shudderin'," she laughed, "I do know how to swim, I forced myself to take lessons a couple years back, nearly killed me, but now at least I could swim if I had to."

She stopped and smiled down at me, "You know, you're gettin' to be very brave,"

"Really?"

"Yep," she nodded, "I don't know anyone your age who's stoic like you."

"What's stoic mean?"

"Well, in this case it means that even if your scared, you don't show it, not like my brothers, at your age they peed themselves at every shadow in sight, seriously! They were always carrying on like this -"

She made this exaggerated impression of her brothers crying and moaning about, "Momma! Momma! You it's a monster! we're gonna die! EEEEEE!" which made me laugh.

"My brothers may act all cool and tough, but they really just a bunch of marshmallows, even to this day!"

I sighed, "I'm not really not brave," I told her, "Actually I'm not brave at all.."

"Well I think you are, deep down, Fred," she patted my shoulder, "And you know, its actually better if you admit you aren't brave, if you know you ain't, because when you make this big, huge thing about how you're so tough and you're not afraid of anything, and then it turns out your a big fat coward, not's not admirable, at least if you admit it that you're not brave, you're being honest."

I hung my head, "I get teased for being honest like that." I mumbled dejectedly.

"Well, people are mighty screwed up," Kessie told me, "But I think you're at least making progress, you may not be brave and yet you're not crying or panickin' all over the place - _especially _in a place that scares you!" she shrugged, "It's a start aint it?"

"Y-yeah, I guess so." I smiled up at her.

Though that may have been due to the fact that Polaris was close by. If I didn't know that, I don't belive I would've been as stoic as she had observed.

Finally we arrived to our destination, where everyone crowded about pointing at the ground.

"It was here last night!" Chad said to Olaf.

"How do you know?" Paul said.

"It rained all day yesterday, and it stopped raining when it got dark..so logically it was made either last night..or this morning!"

I hurried up to them, "Excuse me." I said lightly touching Olaf's shoulder, and that's when I saw it.

In the mud was a footprint. It looked very much like a dog's. Only it was narrower and had longer claw marks.

"Holy cow!" Kessie commented, "Whadya suppose made that?"

"Coyote?" Paul suggested.

"It looks nothing like a coyote paw print," Bernard said, "I know, I've seen them millions of times.."

"Besides it's far too big to be a coyote," Olaf put in, "And it couldn't have been a wolf, there aren't any in this area."

"They could've migrated," said Stewart, "They do travel a lot."

"On their own territory, but not to other states."

"Well if it ain't a coyote or a wolf, what is it?"

"I know what it is," Chad said in a half whisper. we all turned to him, and Paul piped up, "You do?"

"Yep, it's a Shadow Spirit."

"What's a Shadow Spirit?" I asked, never having heard of it before.

"It's a creature, very similar to a wolf, it has the body of a wolf, only thinner, sleeker, with long legs and tuffy ears like a lynx, and a tail like a lions..

"It's fur is as black as the night, it could blend perfectly into the shadows and the darkness..they say you could never pick out a Shadow Spirit in the dark, and even if you shone a bright light on it, you'd think it was a shadow..oh, I forgot to mention their eyes are black," he looked at me, with this terrifying grin, "Which is another reason why it can't be found, the eyes don't reflect light, like a cat's or a dog's or any animal..

'"and they eat only one thing..." the rest of us held our breath, waiting for Chad to speak, when he did, my blood turned to ice water, "Human flesh."

"That's all they eat?" Bernard said, "Humans?"

"No animals?" piped up Paul

"Nope, they only eat humans.. they feed on anyone who is out after dark - because they only hunt at night - people walking on the streets, homeless people..kids who play in the fields..you can't catch them, because they're too fast..you know how a cheetah can run over eighty miles for a short distance?" he waited for every one to nod, "They can run for _hours _at that speed."

"Are you making this up, Chad?" I spoke up, my voice high from fear.

"Nope, I read it in an encyclopedia at the library..its an encyclopedia on monsters and ghosts, and they had a photo of their footprints..and this footprint -" he pointed to the ground, 'looked _exactly _like it."

"S-so you think it really is a Shadow Spirit?"

He laughed loudly, prompting a startled gasp from me.

"No, it's not it's just a coyote, Fred." Kessie said to me.

"Yeah, Fred, it's just a coyote."

"Sheesh, Fred, why do you have to be such a baby?"

I frowned at them, "I am not a baby." I said, but they weren't listening.

"But you never know, it just _might _be a Shadow Spirit," Chad said with a grin "It's same paw and everything.."

"Chad, just shut up."

"No, you shut up, Kessie."

She rolled her eyes, "Very mature, Chad." she scoffed.

Then she knelt before me and smiled, "Whether it's a coyote or a shadow whatsits, I don't think you have anything to worry about, you wanna know why?" I nodded, "You are far too skinny, I mean look at you! You hardly got any meat on these arms," she said, lifting one arm up at a time, "No creature is ever gonna chose you, you'd hardly be considered a morsal..they like to eat very fat kids, so..." she turned to Paul with a wicked grin, "You better watch out Paul!"

"Bu-but your bigger than me!" he stammered, "And fatter!"

"But a whole lot smarter!" she shot back with a laugh.

I had always been very thin. No matter how much I ate I never seemed to gain any weight whatsoever. I was always the shortest child in every class, all the way up until sometime around the ages of fourteen or fifteen when I finally started to grow height wise.

But at this moment I was immensely relieved to be small and frail.

There was a pause. A cold breeze buffeted us, making every hair raise as one, as dogs' hackles would when sensing an oncoming storm. I wrapped my arms about myself, chilled to the bone, though the wind wasn't exactly the cause.

"We should probably go back to the house," Kessie said breaking the silence. Every face looked at her, and for once the tough expressions that my brothers and cousins wore disappeared. Their eyes narrowed in worry, and they nodded silently, suddenly robbed of their smug confidence. It was as if it suddenly dawned on them that there was indeed a deadly predator on the loose and just realized the amount of danger we were in.

I watched them, clutching Kessie's hand tightly as we made our way back. I thought back to what Kessie said about them being as scared as I was and of what my mother had said a long time ago. Even Immortals were capable of fear and dread. And I wondered if there was anyone in this world who _wasn't _afraid of anything.

_Did _there exist such a person? Or was fearlessness just a myth that everyone aspired to?

We were all silent on our trek back to the house until Bernard spoke up, "So are you guys goin' to the carnival?" he addressed Chad.

"Yeah, Mom said that next weekend was a good time to go,"

"Why don't you come with us? Since you're coming over anyway, you could ask your mom."

"Are you going to the carnival?" I asked Kessie.

"I was planning to," she replied, "Are you gonna go?"

"Um.."

"Fred's scared of the carnival." Chad said.

"I am not!" I shot back.

"You basically had a seizure when you saw the posters!"

"I did not, Chad!"

"You're scared of carnivals, too?" Bernard laughed, "Is there anything in this world that your _not _afraid of?"

"Yeah there is!"

"What then?"

I thought and thought, but I could never think straight when I was flustered.

"See?" Bernard laughed, "I thought so!"

That was the last straw. I marched straight to him and grabbed his arm. He looked at me and normally I would've backed down to avoid a pounding. But I was seeing red at this point.

And instead, I threw down the gauntlet.

"I'll go to the carnival this weekend," I said, my voice composed that it frightened me, "And I'll show you that I'm not scared of it!"

"Well, I don't think you should go to the carnival," Bernard replied solemnly, "I think it's best if you stay here and play with your dolls -"

Everyone roared with laughter.

"Hey!" Kessie snapped, "Bernard, I've got an idea - stop being such an ass!"

"You're an ass!" he shot back.

"A fat ass!" Paul chimed in, giggling.

"Oh you boys!" she sighed, "You boys and your witty comebacks!"

I couldn't help but laugh.

We crossed the road but as the boys headed for the house, Kessie took me aside.

"You don't have to go, Freddy," she told me kindly, "Don't pay any mind to what Bernard says, he's just a big jerk," she smiled at me, "I was thinking, when they go to the carnival next weekend, how bout you and I do something fun together? Like getting ice cream, or going to the movies - or heck, even both! Wouldn't you rather do that?"

I did want to. If I hadn't made the bet I would've said yes right then and there. But I was still feeling sore from Bernard's words. They would sneer at me if they knew I backed out. They'd never let me forget it. I couldn't have that. I wouldn't have it. I was tired of being picked on. I wanted to prove them wrong.

But it felt cruel to flat out refuse Kessie's offer, not after she asked me so kindly.

I shrugged, "I'll think about it." I told her.

And with that, we both walked to the house.

Plans were being made for everyone to go to the carnival the following weekend. Everyone looked at one another, their faces glowing with excitement.

Fueled by resolve, I cleared my throat.

"Mom?"

"Yes Fred?"

"I'd like to go to the carnival too."

Every head in the room turned to look at me. Even Charles, though I believe he did that because everyone else did.

"But you don't like the carnival." My mother replied.

"Well, I still..want to go.."

"What changed your mind?"

"Nothing, I just - I just really want to go! I really want to! Please?"

"Alright, alright, you can go, Fred, if you really want to." She still eyed me curiously.

I swallowed hard meeting everyone's smug grins.

_What have I done?_


	7. The Danger Approaches

**Disclaimer: I do not own Courage the Cowardly Dog or any of it's characters.**

**Warning: This chapter contains strong language.**

* * *

Chapter Six: The Danger Approaches

"What have I done?" I moaned from beneath my pillow.

"Well I must say we got pretty far in my plan, you seem to be on some kind of roll today!"

"What do you mean?"

"Well I was planning on getting you to first acknowledge your fears, then try to imagine the worst possible situation and outcome, and then face your fears - but it seems that you've skipped two steps already, which is good, mind you!" he added quickly, "That means we're getting somewhere!"

"I don't know why I did it!" I said, "I wasn't thinking..why?"

"I mean, first the fields, now the carnival? If this isn't progress, then I don't know what is!"

He sounded throughly impressed by my actions but I couldn't see the goodness in what i had done then.

"Oh what have I done?" I continued to wail, hitting my head against the pillow, "I can't do it - I can't! I'm not gonna win! I just can't - I _hate _the carnival! Why?"

"Well here's a simple solution - don't go."

"I have to! They'll call me chicken if I don't!"

"It doesn't really matter if they do,"

"Yes it does!"

"They call you chicken - worse than chicken, and they remind you of that every single waking second, what's one more chicken going to do to you?"

"I don't _want_ them to call me chicken!"

"Well, it's not like you're facing some life-and-death situation! You just go to the carnival and..um, well..just go!"

"That's easy for you to say!"

"You'd fare off better than me," he replied, "I'd be terrified out of my wits, with all those people! I'd probably soil myself entirely..if I could anyway - but still! I'd be much more chicken than you would be! I'm sure of it!"

But that wouldn't have made me look less scared - not enough to have them consider me brave.

"What if I come along?"

I looked up at him, "What?"

"I'll come along and it won't be as scary, you'll at least have a friend supporting you,"

"But you're terrified of people,"

"It's a small sacrifice on my part, but I'm willing to do so if it makes you feel comfortable."

"You may be Immortal, but when you're more terrified of people than I am, then how would you be of any help? I don't see the point of you coming if I end up having to tow you around everywhere."

He gave a great sigh, "Again, I'm just trying to be a friend, I know I'm not perfect and I can't be the perfect guardian in every situation, but I am trying," he looked up at me, "Would it have been best if I didn't care?"

I shook my head, "No."

"I know something that will take your mind off it," He said, "I have some rather curious information about that unusual footprint in the fields."

I lifted my head, "Do you know what it is?"

"No, and aside from the fact that it looks nothing like any canine I know would make- there is no lingering scent attached to the footprint."

"..What does that mean?"

"Precisely that! There's no scent! Everyone leaves a bit of their scent behind all over the place - and yet, this footprint had none..

"I sniffed out the entire field, and found more footprints, and I smelled nothing - I smelled the grass, the rain, the mud, the neighbor's cat and dog, the deer that often graze there - and several coyotes, I even found some tracks and scat from them, but no new scent..none of the new footprints had any scent attached to them."

"Could they be fake tracks?"

"No, or else I would've smelled the human making them and the materials to do so, no - these had nothing attached to the, it was as if a ghost had made them.."

"Do you think it might be a ghost?"

"I highly doubt it, because normally ghosts don't leave tracks, and every single creature on this earth has an idetifiable scent..unless it's very faint, but I can pick up the faintest of smells - this nose of mine hasn't failed me in anything..

"Until now - right?" If he had eyebrows he would've furrowed them at me.

'I'm not doubting you."

"I can see that you're beginning to,"

"No! I trust you! Really!"

"Right,"

"So, what does this mean?"

He shrugged, "I don't know."

"Do you think it might be a Shadow Spirit like Chad says?"

"I cannot say, I've never even heard of them before."

"Me neither."

"I suppose the only way to find out is to go to the library and find that book, see if the footprint matches."

"But tomorrow's Sunday, the library will be closed."

"We'll just have to wait until Monday, you can ask your mom if she could pick you after school and bring you over."

"I'll ask her when she tucks me in," I said, "Suppose it _is _a Shadow Spirit..what do we do then?"

"Well we can't very well do anything until we know what we're up against, in the meantime we should keep close to the house, even in the daytime..maybe we shouldn't even play outside, they say the beast hunts at night but we don't know that for certain, true those people were killed during the night but that doesn't necessarily mean it hunts _only _during the night.."

"Well, Fred, does the carnival seem very scary now?"

"Not really."

"So why are you so afraid of the carnival?"

"when I was five years old we went to the carnival, and I got lost in the House of Mirrors..the whole day I was lost in there..when neither my mother and.._you know, _could find me, they looked everywhere and they eventually found me..it was night when I got out of there.."

"Wow, that does sound creepy," Polaris said, "But that's all you're afraid of? The House of Mirrors?"

"Well, that and clowns."

"Oh, yeah," he shuddered, "I utterly _loathe _clowns."

"Well here's an easy solution - don't go into The House of Mirrors and don't go near any clowns, and if you see one, just run."

"I can't do that! Everyone will laugh at me if I ran away!"

"Oh, for Pete's sake! I bet _they're_ terrified of clowns!"

"Chad and Stewart aren't."

"No, because they are so very brave!" Polaris replied sarcastically.

"They are too!" I shot back.

Polaris sighed shaking his head, "Gosh, this is so stupid.."

...

...

I woke up then. My heart raced and my breath came out in uneven bursts.

Immediately, I felt Chester's little head bump against my cheek.

Feeling for him, I scooped him up, rolling onto my back and placed him on my breast.

Nevertheless, the memory of _him _kept my heart racing at a painful rate.

"Polaris? Polaris?"

"What? Huh?" He sat upright in bed and looked about, "What is it?" he asked groggily, "What's wrong?"

"I just had a thought,"

"Just a thought?"

"Yeah,"

"oh," he groaned and lay back against the pillows, "I was in the middle of a very good dream,"

"Oh..I'm sorry I woke you, you can go back to sleep if you want to,"

"Nah, I can't, I'm too wide awake now," he gave an enormous yawn, "Well what was your thought?"

"I just thought - is it possible that _He _is the reason that the ghosts keep haunting me?"

"Who?"

"You know.."

"Uh, no I don't know - oh - oh, wait a minute! Rightrightright - yes - I know, sorry I'm not really awake..What was your thought again?"

"Do you think the ghosts have anything to do with _Him? _Like what if _He's _the one who created these ghosts?

"Because, before _He _came to live with us, I saw no ghosts, but once _He _left, they started appearing - no - before that - I didn't remember before when I was talking to mother, but I just recalled having some dreams of the ghosts before..that night..

"But before I never saw them..I used to wake up early in the morning and play by myself in the livingroom and I never saw them..nor did I see them all those times we went for those full moon walks with mother's friends..

"It was only when.._He _came along, and after he left, did the ghosts start to appear.."

I waited tensely while he thought it over. Finally he shook his head.

"...No, no I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"I would've sensed if he had the power to communicate with those in the spectral dimension, let alone have them work for him..you'd have to be a powerful warlock to be able to do that, and I sensed no magic within his aura..I doubt that he would even be interested in learning how to do so, even if the opportunity were presented to him..

"That's why I highly doubt that he is the cause - well, the direct cause anyway..you could say _He's _partialy the cause..

"Certain ghosts tend to feed on the energies of living beings..people's emotions, usually their negative emotions such as fear or hate, attract them, and since those are very powerful feelings, the energy is most palatable and strong, and thus..the ghosts will dine on the person's energy, even to the point of draining it entirely from their auric fields..and sometimes, if they are not stopped, they would drain the blood out of a person's body, taking their life in the process..

"And before _He _left you weren't picked on or having nightmares, which was why I assume the ghosts didn't haunt you before, now that you are..well, that's the reason..

"Remember when I talked to you in your dream the night before? About _why _they will keep antagonizing you? This is exactly what I was talking about - when the ghosts sense your fear, they'll go to you, much like when the bullies see a scrawny, crying, cringing little boy - the little boy basically is telling them, subconsciously anyway 'I'm weak, I'm very weak - come have a go at punching me, I'm very fun, I promise you' You see?"

I shrugged, unwilling to answer.

"So as long as you keep giving them what they want they'll persist you..and I think it's especially worse for you because I keep fending them off, they'll never be satisfied until they had their fill of you..

"I assume that's what they want," he continued, "Else, why would they persecute you? Unless they're poltergeist, which I doubt because poltergeist don't normally act this way..their aim is to pull pranks on you for their own amusement, not try to hurt you..some pranks could be viewed as harmful, but they don't tend to be savage as these ghosts have been."

"Are you sure about all this, Polaris?"

"No, I'm not," he admitted, "But it's the only plausible explanation and the best thing to do is act accordingly to get rid of them..and if it turns out I'm wrong, well..we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"Anyway, on a more positive note, I dreamt about this interesting idea on how to solve your clown problem,"

"What is it?"

"You ever heard of the phrase 'Laughing in the face of danger'?"

"No."

"But I'm not talking about laughing at a clown or else that might encourage him, but I thought what if - what if you try to out-creep a clown?"

"How do you do that?"

"Well, you could put on a really creepy smile and stare at him until he goes away."

"What?" Just the prospect of having to _look _directly at a clown was chilling enough, but to _stare _at them for a prolonged amount of time?

"Yes, we'll have to practice tomorrow, the idea is to be friendly but creepy if you know what I mean, but not mean or nasty like your _trying _to scare them away, but just go up to them and make the creepiest face you can possibly make and don't break it, no matter what they say or do, keep smiling at them until they leave," he shrugged, "It's worth a try."

"I don't know if I could do that," I told him, "I'm no good at making creepy faces."

"I bet your brothers and cousins could never do that, they would never think of doing that, you ought to do it, and afterwards they'll admire you! Stewart might even say you had _balls! _Wouldn't it be nice to get a compliment like that?"

"I guess so.."

"It would, so first thing tomorrow, we'll get right to work on that.."

...

...

"Fred, I want to take Chester to the field and show him the print," Polaris said to me early the next morning.

"Why?"

"I want to see if I'm the only one who can't smell anything, I asked him if he was game and he said yes, he's just as curious as I am, but I wanted to let you know so you won't panic when you find out he's missing."

"Well, okay," I mumbled, "But please be careful." I didn't want to think about my precious pet being in any kind of danger.

"He'll be safe as long as he's with me," Polaris reassured me, "Well, we better get going."

They left then, and I watched out the window for them. Spotting Polaris' cat form, and the fuzzy pink speck that was little Chester, bounding beside him, I watched them cross the road and disappear into the withering field.

I spent the say in my room afraid to go out of the house. I stayed at my window watching in bated anticipation for my friends to return.

Duncan and Jack came over. They led my brothers to the fields, no doubt to conduct a further investigation of the footprints. I know, because they hunted about for an hour looking for the plaster of paris and the camera.

I watched them flock to the fields. They didn't invite me to tag along with them and I didn't particular care to. And anyway, I don't know how much use I've would've been in that excursion. I pondered telling them about the fact that there was no smell, but then I would have to explain how I deduced this piece of information and they wouldn't take me seriously.

It was quite saddened realizing that, and I suddenly felt so alone.

I lay down in bed, heart-sick, then after some thought, played my music box. Mother was the only one in the house, folding laundry, I believe and so there was no risk of being ridiculed.

That melody always soothed me. To this day, I have no idea what the song is called. I used to hear it in my thoughts nearly every single day since boyhood.

And then, when I visited my dear Aunt Muriel, the day I shaved tender Courage, it played like a full orchestra in my head. Oh, it had been bliss, it had been paradise -

But again, I digress.

Anyway, I felt better after I listened to the sweet little melody. I played it over and over until my sorrow vanished and my fears were all but extinct.

I rose and fell from half dream to drowsy awakening, my fantasies consisting of holding my darling little Chester close to my breast as I lay there among the blankets, which seemed to become softer with each breath, so that I felt I was enveloped in clouds.

_Goodness me, his hair..._

At rare little instances, such as these, as his _hair _would enter my thoughts, and all my worries seemed to fall away. His and Sophie's lovely _hair _- when it had been long, anyway - haunted my dreams. I've often fantasized about the two of them, and would lie, thinking of the texture and the length, as well as ponder on the insistent _urge _that often accompanied these feelings of infatuation.

I cannot recall the dream now. I remember bits and pieces of it, particular sensations and thoughts, but as for the entire dream, I cannot say, for the life of me, what had occurred within it.

I believed I had slept for several hours, because when Polaris woke me up, it had been dark.

"Did Chester smell anything?"

"No," Polaris replied panting slightly, "He found no scent whatsoever in the tracks or around it, and for extra good measure, I even got the farmer's cat and the neighbor's dog to sniff at it too, and they couldn't smell anything either, Chester and I found the whole thing pretty unsettling but both the dog and the cat were _freaking out, _like they couldn't keep their wits together..it was very unnerving.."

A chill went down my spine.

Outside, the rain begun to pour with an almost deafening force against our roof.

"It's very strange," he said, "But we can do no more about it until we read that book.."

...

...

My mother picked me up from school the next day and we drove to the library.

We asked the librarian about the encyclopedia that Chad had told me about. I didn't remember what it was called. Mrs. Weatherly looked it up on the card catalogue.

Back in my day the card catalogue had been a series of cards with all the names of every book in the library typed on them. We didn't have computers back then.

She went to the reference section and pulled out a thick black book, "This is the only ghost encyclopedia that we have." He held up the book which had _Encyclopedia of Lesser Known Creatures _in shimmering gold letters on the front.

At the index, I found Shadow Spirits and flipped to the page.

The artist had painted a horrific picture of the beast - which looked far more terrifying than the image my imagination drew up - devouring a human being.

I shut the book, panting with fright.

"Well? Is that the book?" Mrs. Weatherly asked.

"Are you okay, Fred?" my mother patted my shoulder, "Did you see something that scared you?"

"Yeah, but I'm - I'm alright."

Determined I opened the book one more to the grotesque picture fighting back the urge to cover my eyes.

"Oh my, that's terrible." my mother said, commenting on the picture.

"Can't we just check this out and go?" I asked her. I knew Polaris would be able to look at it, he could read all the information for me. But the librarian shook her head.

"I'm afraid you can't check that out," she said, "That's a reference book."

"Oh," I replied my heart sinking in despair.

"Well, what did you need to look up, Fred?" my mother asked me, "You can just write down the information you need."

"I have to write everything down," I told her, and lent forward to whisper into her ear, because Mrs. Weatherly had been in earshot, "Polaris needs to know everything about this monster, its important that he knows _everything."_

I turned a page, and was disheartened to find the next illustration to be worse than the first one. But I found the photograph that Chad had told me about. And it _did _look like the one I saw in the fields!

"I have a suggestion," Mrs. Weatherly approached us, "Why don't you make copies of the pages? It'll be less trouble than to write everything down."

"A fine idea," my mother nodded, "Fred, you start making copies -Lily will show you - and I'll go get some change."

My mother always kept a stash of quarters in the glove compartment for emergencies and times like these.

Mrs. Weatherly took the book and showed me how to use the copy machine.

As I waited for the machine to print out the pages, I heard a familiar voice behind me.

"Freddy?"

I turned to see Aunt Katherine peeking out from a nearby shelf.

"Hello, Aunt Katherine." I greeted her softly.

"Freddy! How nice to see you!" she rasped, "How have you been doing?"

"Very good, thank you,"

"You've been keeping out of trouble?"

"Yes'm,"

"You've been good to your mother and your elders?"

"Yes'm."

"Still an A student?"

I shrugged, "Most of the time,"

"Good, good," she beamed happily, her smile always reminding me of a carnivorous predator, "And how have your brothers been doing?"

"They're doing good,"

"Wrong!" she shook her head sternly, "They may be good, but they sure aren't _doing _any good, I've been watching them," she turned her attention to the copy machine, "What's this now?"

"I've printed out some pages, " I explained, and then proceeded to show her the information on the Shadow Spirits and told her about my theory that they were responsible for all the deaths

To my surprise, she nodded, "Yes, I know all about that," she lent forward, "They aren't called that name, but I know for a fact that it is they who are killing those people, I've seen some tracks on my property,"

"You have?"

"Yep, downright scary it is, here -" she reached into her pocket and drew out a purple velvet pouch, "Here's a charm for you, for protection, and here -" she then scooped out a handful of them, "They are for your family, I've got one for myself, only I don't know what good it might do, still it's better than being unprotected," she then tucked all the charms into my overalls pocket, patting them afterwards, "Oh! Here's another thing -" after looking about to see if no one was watching, she drew out a dollar bill from her dress pocket, "For you - sh! Sh!" she shushed as she tucked that too into my pocket and buttoned my jacket for me.

"Shh!" she pressed a finger to her lips, "Not a word to your mother! She will end me if she knew! And don't be spending it all on candy, you hear?"

"I won't, Aunt Katherine," I told her, wiping my brow, having begun to sweat from having my jacket buttoned up in an already stuffy library.

"Is that a promise?" she spat.

For answer I held out my pinky finger. Grinning, she hooked her own pinky in mine.

"Now remember, I've got my eye on you," she pointed to her own eye and then at me, I noticed the bruise colored splotches on her finger, stained from the lipstick she wore, "Don't make me catch you spending one penny on candy, it'll rot all your teeth out if you eat the stuff, trust me, child, I lost all my teeth from eating candy before I reached twenty!"

She opened her mouth and tapped her teeth, "You see these? These are plastic dentures, you get them if you aren't careful with your teeth."

"I won't spend any of it on candy, Aunt Katherine."

"Good boy."

My Aunt Katherine claimed that she had this crystal ball which she used to make sure all her nieces and nephews were behaving themselves. She always reminded me of Santa Clause in that sense. Not that she was anything like the kind, jolly man we all knew and loved.

"You got enough money to pay for these pages?"

"My mom's out in the car getting change,"

"No need for that, I'll pay for your pages myself."

And with that she hobbled over to the desk and pulled out her change purse and paid the librarian. Just as she finished doing this, my mother came back in. She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of my aunt.

"Aunt Katherine?" she whispered, and my great-aunt whirled about upon hearing her name.

"Darling!" she suddenly rasped out, delight lighting up her dark eyes, "How have you been keeping yourself, you old dame?"

"Alright, Aunt Katherine," my mother replied enthusiastically, "And what brings you to our little corner of the world?"

"The beast, that's what!" Aunt Katherine replied, "It's come here - to Elsewhere!"

"What beast?"

"The beasts that's been killing those people all over Kansas!"

"Ma'am?" came Mrs. Weatherly's gentle voice from behind us "Please keep your voice down."

Aunt Katherine began mumbling harshly beneath her breath, as if the librarian had personally offended her, and my mother said quickly, "Why don't we talk outside?"

She led my great-aunt out. The afternoon had grown dark, the sky filling up with dark blue rain clouds which looked ready to burst at any moment.

"It's here!" Aunt Katherine continued, "The beast came here, to Elsewhere, it's ready to kill again, I can feel it in my bones!"

"You don't know whose responsible for those killings."

"It is! And it's worked up an appetite! i saw its tracks on my property, and it's all over yours as well, I've seen them!"

"How did you know about the tracks in the cornfields?" I asked her.

"What blasted cornfields? I'm talking about the ones behind your house!"

I swallowed, "Have y-you seen t-them in your crystal?"

"Freddy," she stopped me then turned to Aunt Katherine, "That will do, Katherine."

_"What _will do?"

"Need I remind you to not feed any of your superfluous rubbish to my child, Fred's been having problems as of late and scaring him with this monster foolishness is going to make him worse!"

"But I'm not scared!" I quietly interjected,

"Hush now, Fred,"

"The boy needs to be informed," Aunt Katherine insisted, "Suppose he has not been told and plays out in the fields and gets eaten by this monster? What then?"

"Aunt Katherine, it's been nice seeing you, but we have to leave now." She picked me up and started towards the car, but Aunt Katherine swiftly moved in front of her.

"Wait now - I need you to do me a favor,"

"What do you need?" my mother asked, her tone sounding quite dangerous.

"I need to stay with you folks for a day or two, or at least until the beast has left."

"what - stay at our house?"

"That was the idea."

"But, Aunt Katherine," my mother stuttered, "This is quite sudden -"

"don't you worry your pretty head about a thing, dame," my aunt waved her hand reassuringly, "I've already packed my things, it's in the trunk of your car, I put it in before I went in."

"But - how did you - it was locked!"

"I made a spare key years ago," Aunt Katherine said with a wink, "When you're husband first bought it."

"Oh - well -" my mother was completely flustered at this point, her face was red and she drew in a deep breath before she spoke again, "Katherine, I don't think this is a good idea, we haven't made arrangements for any sort of extended company, my house isn't made up properly -"

"not to worry, dame, not to worry! I won't be any trouble, I'll merely sit and watch TV and be out of your hair the whole time, I won't even talk to you, you won't even know I was there, you'd think of me as some silly old statue,"

"but perhaps there are other relatives -"

"Bah!" she spat making me jump, "Shower of bastards they are! I will have nothing to do with them!"

"Aunt Katherine -"

"Darling please," my aunt narrowed her eyes, and she looked very much like the wicked witch she was rumored to be, "I'm _begging _you," she continued in a whisper, "I don't wish to go back to my house, there's a dead body on the lawn,"

My heart leapt and my mother gasped, "What? There is?"

"No! Of course not! But there will be! I guarantee you!" And with that, she opened our car door and crawled into the back seat.

My mother wasn't at all pleased by this but she argued no more. I sat next to Aunt Katherine on the drive home. Unbuttoning my jacket, I peeked at the dollar that she gave me. I couldn't thank her as my mother was there, instead I gave a hug.

"I'm glad you're coming to visit, aunt Katherine!" I told her.

"Well I'm glad too!" she replied cordially, patting my shoulder stiffly.

From the driver's seat, my mother exhaled sharply in apparent displeasure.

I drew away from my aunt, guilty at my enthusiasm. But I was rather relieved to have coming to our house. Having both Polaris and she in our house made me more optimistic about our situation. surely she knew some spells that could protect us. I would've inquired about it then, but my mother was tapping the steering wheel, so I kept silent.

We spoke no more until we reached home. My mother carried the small suitcase in while I opened the car door for my aunt and escorted her to the porch.

My aunt was beside herself with gaiety, "You're becoming the little gentleman, Fred," she told me, "I didn't even need to ask you this time! You are learning very well, now have you been doing this to other women or girls?"

"Doing what?"

"Escorting them."

"No,"

"And why not?" she asked sharply.

I shrugged and looked down at my feet, "Because I um, forget.."

She clucked her tounge at me and I held the door open for her.

She beamed at me as she entered, "Well, hope is not lost on you after all..You! Fat child!" she suddenly barked, pointing at Jack, Stewart's close friend, "why haven't you opened the door for me?"

"I dunno."

"You didn't have the good sense to open the door even though you knew I was out here?" she said, and I quickly ducked in closing the door for her.

"I dunno."

"Well then take my coat off for me and hang it!"

"Why can't you take off your own coat?"

"it's proper for a young man like you to do so!"

"I don't have to do anything you say!"

"Jack," I beseeched him, "Just do it!"

"Do it, young man,"

"Not going to!"

"Well, to hell with you then!"

"Katherine Lunetta Black!" My mother gasped in shock and Jack stared at her open-mouthed. I too was unshaken by my aunt's rather uncouth comment.

"What?" She shrugged her shoulders, "I thought that's how everyone talked nowadays! Especially young people like him! I thought it's bastard this and bitch that, and fuck all and balls to you and -"

"Aunt Katherine," my mother's voice took on a steely edge as the occasion required when one of us stepped out of line, "I tolerate much of what you do and say, but what I will not tolerate is profanity, and especially not profanity aimed at children, mine or others," She folded her arms and glared down at my sneering aunt, "Now apologize to Jack and keep that filthy mouth of yours in check for the rest of the visit, or I shall have Aunt Delphine come and take you to their farm!"

"Do you mean that?"

"Yes, I do -"

"No, what you meant by you don't swear at all in this house, is that true? Do you never swear ever or do you let a few damns and hells or the occasional bastard slip when something happens? How strong is your code? If you let a few slip then I don't see why I should honor it."

"I make it a point that no profanity or inappropriate words are spoken or used in any fashion whatsoever in this household."

"Then that's great!" My aunt replied looking beside herself, "I respect your integrity and I will honor it with all my heart!"

"Good." she furrowed her brow, "Now apologize to Jack."

She gave a grunt of displeasure, "Apologies." she murmured without even looking at him.

"Fine, boys you can run along now."

Jack darted from the room, shooting a hateful look in our aunt's direction. I started to leave but she called to me.

"Fred! Stop right there!" she beckoned me with her finger, "Come over here at once!"

"W-what do you need, Aunt Katherine?" I asked, still nervous after what had just happened. I glanced at my mother who eyed Katherine suspiciously.

"I'm going to teach you a valuable lesson is what!" she said, and begun to lower herself onto her knees. I watched her unsure, and a little frightened of what she might do.

She turned to me then. The leer that seemed to be permanently etched into her face disappeared altogether, and a sweet, almost beguile expression softened her features, and she batted her eyelashes at me.

"Freddy," she said in a sing-sing voice, "Won't you take my coat and hang it up for me?"

"Uh -um -" I stammered, finding her feigned innocent expression far more intimidating than her normal unfriendly one.

"Aunt Katherine, I'll take your coat for you," my mother began, starting forward.

"Ah - ah - ah - ah!" My aunt raised a forefinger and shook it rapidly, and my mother stopped in her tracks, "I want Freddy to take it for me," she turned to me and smiled, a gentler smile this time, "Won't you be a little gentleman and take my coat for me, Freddy?"

She had already unbuttoned it. I easily slid it from her frail body and hung it on the highest knob I could reach, "And would you take my hat too?" she said handing it to me. I hung it up.

"Good boy," she said struggling to her feet with the help of her cane, "I got it - I got it -_I've got it."_ she rasped to my mother who had rushed forward to help.

Despite her many expectations for others to help her, it was wise to allow her to do certain things for herself. I never dare to contradict her when she used that voice.

"A private word with you, Freddy," she said, "It's always proper to take a lady's coat off for them, like just now if a lovely lady enters your home, you say to her 'Oh, let me take your coat for you' and you do," she lent forward lowering her voice, "Women are charmed by these sort of things, Freddy, you best keep that in mind," she chuckled lightly, but then turned deathly serious scarcely a heartbeat later, "Ladies will think you are very improper if you don't do it! You hear me now, Freddy? Don't make me catch you _not _taking girl's coats off or opening doors for them! I've got my eye on you -"

"Katherine, I've had enough," my mother said looking throughly exasperated, "Go to your room, Fred."

"You know I don't like that, Katherine." I heard my mother say as I made my way up the stairs.

"There are not enough chivalrous men in the world, that boy is our only hope!"

Years ago, my mother had taken us aside "Don't mind your aunt, she's not watching you through any crystal ball." She went on to say that Katherine had lived a long time in an era where men were chivalrous towards women, whereas today it was merely optional, and few men often showed it.

"We'll just play along when she's here, she'll be much worse if she feels she's not treated right, that goes for you two," she addressed Chad and Stewart, "You behave and do what she asks, it'll make things easier for all of us."

I didn't mind doing so. Actually I was very much eager to open doors for her and escort her about. I had taken her lectures on treating women very seriously because I've always fancied the possibility that one day a girl would charmed by my gentility, take a liking to me, and befriend me.

And, as you all know, I did find that special girl.

But that is another story.

"Why is your aunt here?" Polaris said as I entered my room. He didn't care for my aunt any more than the rest of my family did.

"She's gonna stay with us for a couple of days," I told him, "She said she saw the Shadow Spirit's tracks in her yard, and that they are here,"

"But why is she staying with _us?"_

"She's afraid to stay at her house alone, I guess," I shrugged, "Look what she gave me!" I pulled out the twenty-dollar bill and proudly held it up.

"Good for you." he said dryly.

"Well, I like her!" I said, "I know she's a little strange and -"

Polaris snorted, "Understatement of the year."

"Well at least she's nice to me!"

"Whether she's nice to you or not, she's still a complete sociopath!"

"Well think what you like."

"I will, thank you."

I sighed sticking the folded dollar bill into my piggy bank.

"So anyway, did you find anything out about the Shadow Spirits? where's the book?"

"I couldn't take it out because it was reference, but, I did copy the pages." I said, pulling the folded papers from my jacket pocket.


	8. Sophie

**Disclaimer: I do not own Courage the Cowardly Dog or any of it's characters. I do own Sophie and Polaris.**

**Warning: This chapter has the most violent dream sequences so far. It is not extremely graphic but it may disturb some people.**

Chapter Seven: Sophie

_"Hi! This is Sophie! I'm not available this moment, but if you leave your name and number I'll get back to you as soon as I can! Thanks!"_

"Hello, Sophie? This is Fred, I'm just calling you to wish you a happy birthday..so, happy birthday," I chuckled softly, "Um, did you by any chance get my card? I couldn't buy one so I made one for you, I hope you like it, and well.."

I had dreamt about her.

It had been the most vivid dream I had received so far. We were sitting at a table in a cafe somewhere. She was talking to me though I couldn't make out a single word she said. She looked very excited and happy at the seemingly extraordinary news she was telling me. Every now and then she would giggle in delight, and I heard her, even though it sounded as though she were speaking from far away.

I didn't care though. I was happy just seeing her again, watching her. Her eyes shone so brightly. Excitement surged in my breast as she met my gaze and I fell myself falling deep into her gaze as she talked. My eye then caught her hair which to my delight looked longer than it had been last time I saw her. It was nearly just as long as it was when she was a little girl. My eyes roved over her head and shoulders, my starved eyes greedily taking in the sight.

I met her eyes again and she looked up at me, her lips pressed together as if stifling a laugh. Her face broke into this glorious smile and she lifted a hand to cover her mouth.

Moved by endearment, I reached to take her hand.

I woke up then. Sophie had disappeared, and the familiar grey walls took her place. My hands clasped the bed sheets beneath me, my heart sinking. I didn't want to get up that day. I just wanted to bask in that warm memory of her for as long as I could. I remained aloof for most of the day. I all but completely isolated myself from everyone, and even during our group sessions I would find myself returning to the dream, and not listening to whoever was talking. I know it was rude of me to do so.

Because my mother had taken a long time to come to terms with my _naughty _behaviour, I've allowed my friends to take their own time before getting back in touch with me.

However since that dream of Sophie, my closest and most dearest friend of all, I've longed to hear her voice again, that was not recorded. I wished to have her speak to me directly, at the same time, in the same moment.

However, for the past four years of imprisonment that I have served, she had made no effort to contact me in any way. Not one letter or phone call.

And every time I called her for her birthday or for the holidays, I would always receive the answering machine.

I had never given anymore than a hopeful hint that she would return my call as soon as possible. Before then I never requested that she speak to me. This time, however, I wanted - no, _needed _- to hear her voice this time.

"Well, I just wanted to call and..I hope you had a nice time today..I hope you'll call me once you get this messege - I would really like it if you called me, it would be nice to hear from a friend..I miss you, Sophie...well, I hope you had a nice birthday and I hope you're doing well..Well I must go now..once again, happy birthday, Sophie...Bye."

I hung up the phone letting out a sigh.

With a heavy heart, I walked back to the common room with my usual escorts, just in time to hear the nurse announce our afternoon medication.

...

_I ran through the woods, with Chester nestled in my overall's pocket. It was brightly lit and I could see very clearly all around me. Fairy lights wove among the tree branches far above me._

_I was laughing as I ran, feeling happy and exhilarated, although I cannot say exactly why._

_I felt very..Naughty._

_I laughed breathlessly, and I felt Chester feel exactly how I did. I looked down to find his eyes sparkling with happiness._

_I came to a river and coming down the muddy water_

_was a boat. I then saw that my mother was seated in it. She laughed gaily upon seeing me, "Come in!" she beckoned and I eagerly leapt in. We sailed off again._

_"Well, what have you been up to now, Freddy?"_

_I grinned up at her, bursting into a fit of giggles, unable to speak._

_"You haven't been too Naughty have you, Freddy?"_

_I shook my head, though I wasn't too sure myself._

_"Well then!" she smiled at me, "Would you like to ride a little ways with me?"_

_I nodded._

_I noticed that she was dressed rather extravagantly. My mother hardly dressed up, even for special occasions, and on those she would wear a simple dress without any fancy trimming or elaborate designs._

_In my dream she dressed in a fashion similar to what my Aunt Katherine would normally wear: She wore a black steepled hat, a black feather boa that wove about her neck and arms. Her dress was of a color I could not identify, with shimmering with glints and streaks of blue, green and violet within the folds of her skirt. When she moved she shimmered, the lights reflecting like diamonds over her body. Her arms were clothed in vague sleeves that I could only describe looked as if they had been woven from shadows and dewdrops._

_"You're beautiful!" I gasped, completely taken with her beauty._

_She laughed, "Thank you, Freddy, you look very handsome yourself!"_

_I blushed deeply, happy to receive such a wonderful compliment from her._

_We sat in silence, gazing up at the spectacular scenery. The lights filled the forest, sparkling and bobbing in the ripples that our boat gave off. Chester sat on the edge of the boat, gazing down at the glittering, dark water, the sight reflected in his brilliant eyes. I sighed deeply gazing at him, trailing my fingers in the cool, magical water._

_He gazed at me and I gazed back at him, taking in his shiny eyes and the gold glints in his pink fur. I reached out and stroked his soft fur. Everything felt so beautiful and so romantic. I never wanted it to end._

_"Get your hand out of the water, Fred." my mother said sharply._

_I looked at her puzzled, "Why?"_

_Without an answer, she lent over and quickly jerked my hand away from the water's surface, almost knocking my little fuzzy friend over doing so._

_I gasped as I saw the red substance that stained my hand. It looked suspiciously like..blood?_

_I gasped in horror. Not only that, I realized the world had changed. The night had vanished as well as the lights. I looked up to see the world was washed in a pale morning. The foliage had vanished leaving the now pallid trees looking withered and lifeless. But that wasn't the worst part. To my sickening horror, I saw that skeletons hung from the trees. _

_They gazed down at us, hung by what I hoped wasn't their entrails, as we floated past._

_"Fred," my mother said, a slight shake in her voice, "Don't panic."_

_But that was exactly what I was doing. I couldn't breathe. I gasped struggling for air._

_My mother grasped my hands whispering, "Shh - Freddy - just breathe - just breathe - they can't hurt you."_

_She grasped my shoulders, keeping me in place as I convulsed, panic as I could not get any air. She held me firmly in place, her voice gentle and calm, "Breathe, my dear, it's alright."_

_I closed my eyes against the horror, my mother's words dulled the edge of my panic. I listened to her murmur gently, softly to me, until I found i was able to breathe again. I cautiously opened my eyes, making sure to look only at her eyes. _

_I pressed closer to her and I heard her whisper, "We have to get out of here."_

_No sooner had she said this when the boat began rocking violently_

_I screamed, clinging to my mother. My eyes darted over to Chester who lay huddled at the bottom of the boat, fur raised, spitting with fear. I reached for him, jerked out of my mother's grasp as the boat rocked again._

_Gripping onto the side of the boat, I spotted something protruding from the water's surface. _

_A charred bone, followed by two other jagged appendages rose from the water._

_My stomach churned violently as I recognized the claw._

_Before i could react, it lunged and crashed into the side of the boat, causing us to over turn completely._

_I grabbed for Chester, expecting to meet the cold bloody water - only to find myself falling in darkness._

_The dream changed._

_I woke up in a dimly lit room. I tried to move, finding that I couldn't. I looked over and found that was was tied down - no, held, my wrists were held in place above me, secured by steel braces. an enormous brace held my midsection and after trying to move my feet found that they too were_

_I panicked looking about me. Where was I? How did I get here?_

_"Mom?" I called out, panic rising in my throat, "Mom?"_

_"She can't hear you." a voice emanated from the shadows._

_I froze in fear, my heart hammering against my ribcage._

_In the darkness ahead, I caught the outline of a figure walking towards me. He stepped into the dim light and I was able to see who he was._

_"Nice to see you're finally awake, Freddy boy."_

_"Mom!" I cried, struggling against my braces, "Mom!"_

_"She can't hear you." He said again."_

_"Where is she?" I demanded shrilly._

_"Why, she's dead, son."_

_His words turned my insides to ice._

_"No," I whispered, shaking my head, "You're lying! I saw her! She's alive!"_

_"She was, yes, but," He chuckled, taking a step closer to me, "The ghosts got her, Little Freddy."_

_"No - NO!" I screamed, struggling against the braces with all my might. It couldn't be true. It couldn't! He had to be lying! "I saw her! You're lying! Mom! Mom! Mom! MOMMA! MOM! MOM!"_

_"Scream all you like," He whispered as I stopped to gasp for air, "She can't hear you."_

_I shook my head and screamed for my mother over and over and over, as loudly as I could, my voice reaching to an abnormal pitch. I sobbed, still calling for her, weaker this time. I fell against the board sobbing. she couldn't be. She couldnt.._

_Eventually my voice gave out and all I could do was cry helplessly._

_"Momma," i wailed, my throat on fire, "Momma.."_

_"Oh Freddy, I know," He whispered in mock sadness, "I know how hard this must be for you."_

_I lifted my head to look at him. I gasped in sheer terror._

_His face was fully visible. Half of it looked as if it were rotting off, the flesh was grey and dangled from his moist yellow skull. I felt like vomiting looking at him. I noticed how his right eye was larger than the other and, just as I observed this, it fell out._

_I screamed watching the eyeball bounce off his face still clinging to his gaping eye socket._

_He laughed, "Those ghosts of yours have taking a liking to munching on me loaf," He chuckled, batting at his dangling eyeball, "As you can see I've lost the use of me mincer here."_

_"Let me go," I demanded, struggling against the braces, "Let me go!"_

_"I can't do that, Freddy, for you see," He shook his head, "You've been very naaaauuugghty."_

_He laughed then went on, "Since your mother is dead, I've come to take her place..to carry out your punishment."_

_Cold terror swept through me, "What are you going to do?"_

_"What needs to be done, Little Freddy."_

_With that, he bent over and retrieved something from the floor._

_It was a small cage. My heart stopped upon seeing who was in it._

_"Chester!"_

_He laid the cage on the table. He opened the cage door and reached for my friend._

_"NO!" I shrieked, thrusting against the braces, pulling at the bonds, "NO! Please! Don't hurt him! Don't! I'll do anything! I'll do anything you want! Just don't hurt him! Please! Please!"_

_"Oh, but it's not a matter of what I want, Freddy," He said softly, "It's about what you deserve."_

_"NO! Please! Daddy!" I gagged, repulsed having to call this man my father. But I was desperate, "Daddy! Don't hurt him! Please! Please!"_

_He laid my friend down on the table, pinning him with one hand. Chester struggled, clawing at His hand, biting and hissing_

_He took no notice. He raised his right hand. I saw that he held a cleaver._

_He looked at me, an ugly grin spreading across his face, "This is what you get for being naughty."_

_"Daddy, no -"_

_He brought the cleaver down._

_I screamed as my beloved pet fell into two bloody halves on the table._

_Words cannot describe my grief and horror at the loss of my precious friend. My world dissolved into tears of anguish._

_"Now don't you see, Freddy? If you had been good, none of that would've happened."_

_My eyes snapped open. Hatred unlike anything I've felt before replaced my heartbreak._

_"STAY AWAY FROM ME!" I screamed in his face. He leapt back snarling._

_With renewed strength, I threw myself against the braces. They rattled as if they were now just starting to give. This fueled my rage._

_I wanted to kill him. I wanted to hack him to pieces._

_He watched me in amusement and wagged his finger at me, "Now, now, Freddy, we're just about done!" he said in a sing song voice, " Be patient, my son!"_

_"SHUT UP! DON'T CALL ME THAT!"_

_"I've decided," continuing as if I had not spoken at all, "To do away with your plates here," he tapped the brace that held my right ankle, "That way I won't have to chase you again."_

_He put down the cleaver and I tugged my wrist against the braces with all the strength I had. My arms blazed with pain. I begun to panic, my anger having waned slightly. I tugged and pulled at the braces, desperate to escape._

_At that moment he staggered back. I saw something resting across his shoulder, "I was thinking," He started, "The next time you're naughty, I'm going to carve out your mincers," he gave a low chuckle, "That way you'll never want to be naughty ever again, as you won't be able to see the object of your affection!"_

_He lowered the stick, gripping it tightly in his decaying fingers. I almost died of fright as I saw what it really was._

_It was an axe._

_Without warning he swung it high over his head._

_I shut my eyes, waiting for the pain._

_But it never came._

...

...

I woke up shuddering and sobbing with terror.

I lay there disoriented for several minutes. I then realized that I was awake and that all that had happened was a dream.

But what a horrible dream it had been! It felt _too _real to be a dream.

And it had been one of the worst nightmares I ever had in my entire life.

I realized, as I lay there getting my breathing and heart rate back to normal, that I had wet myself while I slept. It had been months since I had wet the bed. I thought that I've finally stopped for good. However, as the horror of the nightmare still clung to me, I didn't feel as ashamed as I would've felt.

I heard a squeak and a cold nose bumping against my face.

I gasped, "C-Chester!" I cried out and clasped my darling friend to my heart, "Oh, Chester - my love, you're alright - " I couldn't speak. Tears poured from my eyes and yet they were of joy and relief. I kissed him. He squeaked and tried to struggle out of my grasp, apparently confused by my affections.

But I couldn't explain just then.

Weeping and sighing, I kissed his face, his little paws, all over his back and even his stomach. I kissed him, assuring myself that he was here and alive and that it had been all a dream, until I lay back against the pillows, exhausted and relieved.

He squeaked again and wriggled out of my grasp. I let him go then, "Chester," I sniffled, "I'm sorry, it's just that I had the most horrible dream - I dreamt - I dreamt that you died - but you aren't, Chester, you aren't.."

I sighed. I would have to get up. I needed to change my clothes. I would not be able to sleep again after that -

That's when it hit me.

"Polaris?"

Where was Polaris?

No answer.

"Polaris?"

Silence.

A chill went down my spine.

"Polaris?"

I felt for my bedside lamp and turned it on.

Polaris was nowhere to be seen.

He was gone.

Terror crept over me once more.

He never left me in the middle of the night. He knew that the ghosts would attack me the moment they had a chance. As relieved as I was that no ghosts were present, it puzzled me. If it was true that they were attracted to my fear, how come they weren't dwelling outside my bedroom window? Heck, there should have been the entire swarm waiting for me when I woke up.

I looked about, my eyes catching my music box. With trembling fingers I turned the key. However the song didn't soothe me in the slightest bit. I felt more frightened than ever. I buried my face in my hands, "Calm down, calm down," I murmured to myself, "Calm down.."

I peeked at Chester. He was gazing me, blinking those perfect eyes of his.

"Do you know where he is?" I whispered.

To my surprise, he nodded.

"W-where is he?"

He squeaked.

I stared at him and he squeaked again.

I knew he was trying to communicate with me, but I couldn't understand him of course.

I sighed and stepped out of bed. I shivered in my wet clothes and made my way over to the dresser. I pulled out a clean pair of pajama pants and a shirt and underpants. After shedding my clothes and drying myself off with my pajama shirt, I dressed, wiping my wet hands on the comforter afterwards.

I knew I should've washed my hands properly but I was terrified to go to the bathroom. I never went there at night unless Polaris accompanied me, and even with him, it was still a tense experience. Many a time we flicked on the light to find a ghost hovering over the toilet.

I knew i would have to wait until my mother came. I knew a bath was in order.

I picked out my clothes for school, piling them on my desk. As I did this I wondered where Polaris could've been. What reason could he have to leave me at the mercy of the ravenous ghosts, something I knew he wouldn't have done for a moment. I couldn't think of anything.

By this time my music box had stopped. The silence scared me.

I hurried over to the music box and wound it up again. It seemed to be the only thing that kept me from falling to pieces.

I turned to Chester who had silently watched me this whole time, "Is he downstairs?"

He blinked and nodded.

"What is he doing down there?" I wondered out loud to myself.

Chester then jumped from the bed. He pattered over to the closed door. Looking back at me he tilted his head towards the door. I hesitated before making my way over to him.

I wasn't about to go downstairs and investigate. The ghosts roamed the house around this hour. even if Chester insisted that my friend was downstairs, I didn't have the heart to go down there and search for him.

Then a sudden thought occurred to me.

"Chester," I whispered to him, kneeling before my fuzzy friend, "Has Polaris been gone very long?"

He nodded.

At that moment, the music stopped again.

I sighed leaning against the door.

What should I do? I thought.

Even though Chester was here with me, I still felt afraid. He was too small to fend off any of the ghosts and on top of that, he was a mortal. He wouldn't have a chance if they came in here now. and after that terrible dream I had -

I clutched him to my breast. He squeaked in indignation but I whispered, "Sush, Chester, please - let me hold you - I need you to stay close to me - please."

I went to the bedside table, not only to start up the music box again, but to get the flashlight that I kept in my drawer. I rarely used it as I never went anywhere in the dark without Polaris, as you all know well, as he could see in the dark. I flicked it on, the lightbulb within shining so brightly that it startled me.

Taking a deep breath, I went over to the door, "Where gonna go to Momma's room, okay Chester?" I whispered to my friend. He blinked at me. I opened the door and cautiously shone the light about the hallway.

There was no one in the hall.

I hesitated before creeping out. I left the door open if I needed to run back in for whatever reason. Chester pattered in front of me as I started don the hall. However, as I reached the door, Chester didn't stop there but pattered ahead towards the stairs.

"Chester!" I whispered to him, "Where are yo going? Come back here!"

He blinked up at me and shook his head. He pattered to the very edge of the top step and, looking back at me, tilted his head towards the darkness below.

I shook my head, "No, Chester, get back here!"

He jumped down and disappeared from sight. I hurried over and found him waiting on the second step down. Again, he tilted his head towards the bottom of the stairs, even extending his forepaw in the same direction. He gave a series of soft, little squeaks and murmurs. I knew he was trying to tell me something. Oh, if only I could understand him!

"No, Chester," I murmured sitting down on the top step, "I can't, I'm..I'm afraid."

He blinked up at me. Then jumped down step by step.

I thought then that maybe there wasn't any danger at all. animals would never go anywhere that danger lurked. If there was any danger whatsoever, Chester wouldn't insist on going downstairs. That, and the fact that I was terrified of leaving Chester alone after that dream I had, gave me the courage to follow him.

Besides I wanted to know where Polaris was. I wanted to know what was going on.

No one waited for us at the bottom of the stairs. The kitchen was empty.

"Polaris?" I whispered fearfully to the shadows.

Silence.

"Polaris?"

Chester pattered through the legs f the table and chairs making his way to the living room. I followed him quietly, hesitantly. The house was unnaturally quiet tonight.

I shone my light around the living room. I nearly had a heart attack as the beam caught a hunched over person in the center of the room. Dropping the flashlight, I yelped and backed up against the wall.

"Freddy?" Aunt Katherine's voice rasped in the dark.

I sighed in relief despite my racing heart. Trembling I reached down to fetch the flashlight.

"Go back upstairs,"

I looked up, "What?"

"Get back upstairs - _now!" _She demanded in a rasping whisper.

I shone the light about the floor looking for Chester. I felt his paws on my foot and I hurriedly scooped him up with my free hand. His hackles flared against my grasp.

"Wh-what's wrong?" I stammered, backing into the kitchen. I raised my hand and set the trembling light on my aunt.

She was facing the coffee table, her wand pointed directly at it. She wasn't doing anything, just watching it.

The table cloth flickered.

I was small enough to hide beneath the coffee table. Stewart could if he curled himself tightly enough. Polaris could not fit under there at all, unless he got on his stomach and stretched his limbs out between the legs.

I dispensed with the idea that my friend was hiding under there. I would've seen him if he were turned into his stuffed bear form.

As these thoughts raced through my head, a paw reached out from beneath the table, a head and a shaggy hide soon followed.

I recognized the menacing green eyes, the long razor sharp saber teeth that grew from it's muzzle. Those eyes met mine.

I turned, clutching my pet to my chest and ran towards the stairs. The flashlight clattered behind me having slipped from my grip.

"Fred -" Polaris' thoughts rang into mine. I saw him running up the porch stairs, hurling himself against the door -

The door crashed against the wall, the sound resonating like a gunshot throughout the house as Polaris flew in and charged at the ghost.


	9. Please believe me

**Disclaimer: I do not own Courage the Cowardly Dog or any of it's characters. The only people I own are Polaris, Aunt Katherine, the Shadow Spirits, and the ghosts.**

**Warning: This chapter contains strong language.**

Chapter Eight: Please believe me

I heard my aunt curse loudly downstairs, simultaneously as the ghost snarled viciously. As I tore up the stairs, I heard something - my guess was that something was being violently shoved into either the kitchen table or the coffee table.

I hurled myself against the door to my mother's room, shutting it as quickly as I could. In the dark I dove for my mother's bed. I heard my mother murmur sleepily, "What's wrong? Fred?" As I burrowed into the comforters, "Fred?"

Chester gave a loud squeal and clawed at my wrist. Realizing that I had nearly crushed him, I loosened my grip, and he tore out from under the comforters.

"Fred?" my mother asked sleepily, "What's wrong? What was that loud noise?"

"G-ghost,"

"What?"

"The-there's a ghost d-downstairs!"

My mother sat up and turn on the bedside light, "What was that noise downstairs?" She stood up pulling on her robe from the foot of the bed.

"Polaris attacked him."

She gazed at me. I knew she didn't believe me but she wasn't going to simply brush me off about it.

"Well is it still down there?"

At that moment a loud crash resonated from downstairs and my great aunts rasping cry.

My mother hurried to the door, "Katherine?" she called.

Another crash. My mother closed the door and locked it. Her door was the only one that had a lock on it. She glanced at me, her brows furrowed.

"Fred, what did you see downstairs?"

"One of the ghosts - one of the wolves!"

"Did you see anyone down there?"

"No."

Now I heard my brothers voices in the hall.

"Boys!" My mother called through the door unlocking it and opening it, "Get in here now!"

Chad and Stewart ducked in, looking puzzled and slightly worried.

"Someone's breaking into the house!" Stewart hissed.

"No!" I interjected, "It's only one of the ghosts!"

"Hush now, Fred - Chad," she turned to my brother, "Stay here and watch your brothers,"

"Why? What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to see what's downstairs." my mother replied, her face was perfectly composed, serene even, as was her voice. With that she moved to the closet where she opened it and rummaged about the top shelf.

I pulled the comforters over me, Chester crawled inside and I made sure there was and opening at the top so we could breathe.

Actually I was quite relieved that it only was one of my ghosts. I knew my family was in no danger with them. I was far more preoccupied with the notion of Aunt Katherine seeing the ghost herself and Polaris -

At this moment my mother was going to venture downstairs with the gun that she always kept in her closet. I heard her warn my brothers again to stay here until she came back. I listened to her close the door and make her way down the creaky staircase. I heard Aunt Katherine cursing in aggravation, rather than fear, which was a relief as well.

"What do you suppose is down there?" Stewart whispered to Chad.

"I don't know."

"Do you think maybe it's a burglar?"

"No it's not!" I said throwing the covers off me.

"God dammit, don't talk so loud!" Stewart spat at me.

"You guys are not in any danger!" I insisted, not lowering my voice at all.

"Fred, shut up!"

"It's only one of the ghosts! There was one underneath the coffee table and -"

"Oh, don't start that ghost crap again!" Chad sighed.

"It's true!"

"Shh!"

I sighed and leaned back against the pillows. Chester nestled against my cheek. I gently stroked him as I listened to my mother's and aunt's voices from downstairs. I couldn't make out what they were saying.

"Guys, there's nothing to be afraid of," I murmured to my brothers. They were lying on their stomachs, listening to whatever was going on downstairs. They paid no mind to what I had said. Disgruntled, I swung off the bed and made my way to the door.

"Hey! what the hell are you doing?!" Stewart hissed at me.

"Going downstairs." I had no fear of doing so now, as the ghost was long gone.

"No! Mom told us we had to stay here!" Chad said.

"It's safe now, there's no one down there." With that, I opened the door and hurried towards the stairs.

I slowed down as I heard my mother's voice. They sounded as if they were arguing with one another. I stood on the top step and listened.

"I'm telling you! I saw it! I saw skeletons in the window and then this _fucking _saber toothed wolf crawled out from beneath the coffee table! And then - I knew it - I _knew _that polar bear was real, from the moment I saw it I _knew _it was real - it came barreling through that door and attacked the beast!"

"What? Fred's toy polar bear?"

"That's the one! I'm telling you, he's real! He isn't a _fucking _toy! That bear is _real!" _

"That's enough, Katherine!"

"No! I'm telling you! I saw him with my own eyes! Fred knows about him! He says that Polaris tells him things - things that Fred could not know himself - you should ask him! You should -"

"You expect me to believe that Fred's toy polar bear came to life and attacked the same ghosts that Fred talks about?"

"Yes!"

"Katherine, how can you do this to him?"

"Do _what _to him?"

"Fred has had nightmares about being haunted by ghosts, he wakes up nearly every night with them! He is convinced that they are real and they are trying to hurt him! He hardly gets any sleep, he barely eats, he has anxiety attacks all the time -"

"Helena, you have no idea what kind of danger your child is in -"

"He just came to me and told me that he saw the ghosts again! I know that you like to torment children, I know that you're responsible for half the scares that my nieces and nephews talk about, I'm actually convinced that your responsible for several of their pet's deaths to make it seem as though there are evil things after them!"

"Helena -"

"You _know _what Fred has gone through! You _know _how unstable he is! Are you trying to make him have a breakdown? Is that what you're trying to do?"

"No -"

"And to think that I thought you cared for him! In your own strange way you cared about him! But I suppose I was wrong to think that -"

"I care about your boy more than you can possibly imagine, Helena -"

"Then why are you doing this charade?"

"It's no charade! There were really ghosts here -"

_"There are no ghosts!"_

There was a momentary pause, my mother's words echoed in my ears. Then my aunt begun to laugh.

"So I suppose you will never believe me unless I admit that it was my own doing?"

"Is that true?"

"Of course it's true!"

"..Really?"

"Yes."

"..I see."

There was a long pause. Then my mother spoke.

"Go upstairs and pack your things, Katherine," my mother's tone was completely composed, no trace of her former fury lingered in her tone, "You are to never to visit us or speak to my children ever again."

"Fine," my aunt grunted, "And this is the thanks that I get for trying to protect your son,"

"I have half a mind to report you to the authorities,"

"What would they find, they don't believe in magic, just the same as you!"

"So you do admit to doing those things?"

"All I'm going to say is that you're son is in danger, and you better listen to him, or else one day you'll wake up to find him a ravaged, bloodless corpse -"

"Enough!" my mother rasped.

Aunt Katherine appeared at the bottom of the stairs then. She glared up at me. I lowered my gaze suddenly apprehensive of her, though in a sense relieved that she saw the ghosts as well. She walked passed me without a word. After hesitating a moment, I slowly made my way downstairs to the kitchen. My mother was at the table. Polaris, now a stuffed bear, lay limply before her. She looked up as I approached the table. Her eyes blazed, her lips pressed together.

"Momma?"

"Yes Freddy?" she replied evenly.

I knew it would be useless to try and convince her of the existence of the ghosts. So instead, I said to her, "I need a bath,"

"Why?"

"I wet the bed." I said as softly as I could so only she could hear me.

"Oh," her expression softened and she nodded understandingly, "Okay, Freddy.."

She led me up to the bathroom. She turned on the hot water then left to pick out some clean clothes while I sat watching the tub fill up. Steam filled the bathroom, but despite the stifling warmth that filled the room, I couldn't stop shivering. Then I remembered Chester. I hurried to my mother's bedroom. My brothers were gone but my pet was seated on my mother's pillow. I scooped him up and carried him to my room.

My mother was picking out clothes from the dresser. She had placed Polaris on my toy chest. I set my pet down beside him.

"Fred, I saw the Shadow Spirit -" Polaris' voice rang in my thoughts.

I looked at him. He remained inanimate, yet his glass eyes were focused on me.

I wanted to demand where on earth he had been this morning, but my mother was in the room.

Polaris continued, "Look I can explain - I heard some noises outside on the porch and I was just going to investigate - just to see who was out there, and I saw one of them in the grass and I followed a little ways - and I was going to come back and wake you -"

"Come on Freddy." My mother smiled at me, taking my hand and led me out of my bedroom.

"I'll explain everything when you get back!" Polaris called after me.

...

"Is Aunt Katherine going to Aunt Delphine's?"

"I should think so." She replied shortly.

"Mom?"

"Yes, Freddy?"

"...She - she didn't pretend that the ghosts were down there - I saw it -"

"Now, you needn't play into that game Fred," my mother shook her head sternly at me, "It was wrong of her to scare you like that."

"I need to keep this on." I reminded my mother, touching the jade at my breast. My aunt warned us all that we were never to take our charms off once we put them on, else the protection spell would break and it would no longer be useful.

"Fine, fine." my mother muttered impatiently.

...

"Did you have a nightmare Freddy?"

"Yes."

"What was it about?"

I didn't answer. The dream flashed vividly across my thoughts. I swallowed, and shrugged.

"Was it really bad?"

I nodded. I gazed at the little scratches along my wrist where Chester had raked his claws over my flesh.

"What was it about?"

I shrugged again, "It - I - it was too scary," was all I could manage to say.

"Well what was the main idea?" my mother gently prodded.

I gently stroked my forefinger along one of them, wincing as they stung slightly at my touch. Biting my lip, I shook my head unable to voice the horror of the dream.

Now I realize I may have said this about many other dreams. You see, I've always had trouble as a child talking about my nightmares. It was hard to talk about anything that scared me in general. It had pained me to recall these fears when it was more preferable to simply push them into the farthest corner of my head and forget about them. And I've always had the fear that if I said my fears aloud, they would somehow come true, and if I had kept silent they would stay in my head and never become part of my reality.

"Well, how about you tell me about it when you get home from school?"

"Do I really have to go, momma?"

Several months ago I overheard my mother talking to Aunt Muriel about pulling me out from school for a year or so. However, because of the fact that I no longer came home from school with a black eye or a bloody nose, she never made mention of it again. I longed for the day when she would tell me that I never had to go to school again. I still hoped, though I realized the chances of that were very slim.

I was glad that I went that day. I hate to think of how my life would've turned out if I had not gone to school that day.

"Yes, Fred, you do."

I sighed in disappointment.

"Here, I need to wash your face," I closed my eyes as she gently ran the cloth over my face, "Eyes, nose, mouth, ear, other ear - there! You're done."

She left me to change in privacy. Pulling on my shirt and corduroys, I thought of my aunt. I wanted to talk to her, to tell her everything. I even went out into the hallway and stood before Stewart's door - where she had resided. I even raised my fist to knock on her door. I heard her muttering and cursing to herself inside. I stood there gathering the courage to talk to her -

And then I thought about what my mother had said. If she wasn't allowed to talk to us, then it probably meant the same for us. I have not seen or heard my mother that enraged in a long time, and I was terrified of making her more so.

I turned to leave when I heard a rustle behind me. I turned to see a piece of paper lying on the floor in front of Stewart's bedroom. I went over and picked it up.

On it was a phone number and a messege.

It read:

_345 -678 -5666_

_You must tell me everything_

I looked towards the closed door. I could hear soft breathing coming from the other side. She stood there waiting..

"Freddy!" my mother's voice called from downstairs, "Breakfast!"

I pocketed the piece of paper, "I will!" I whispered to my aunt before hurrying towards the stairs..


End file.
